Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1778 of 2327 |
It was a fine, sweet night, the nicest since my divorce, maybe the nicest
since the middle of my marriage. There was energy, softness, grace and
laughter. I even took my socks off. In my circle, that means class.
-- Andrew Bergman "The Big Kiss-off of 1944"
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1779 of 2327 |
It was a Roman who said it was sweet to die for one's country. The Greeks
never said it was sweet to die for anything. They had no vital lies.
-- Edith Hamilton, "The Greek Way"
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1780 of 2327 |
It was all so different before everything changed.
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1781 of 2327 |
It was kinda like stuffing the wrong card in a computer,
when you're stickin' those artificial stimulants in your arm.
-- Dion, noted computer scientist
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1782 of 2327 |
It was one of those perfect summer days -- the sun was shining, a breeze
was blowing, the birds were singing, and the lawn mower was broken ...
--- James Dent
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1783 of 2327 |
It was one time too many
One word too few
It was all too much for me and you
There was one way to go
Nothing more we could do
One time too many
One word too few
-- Meredith Tanner
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1784 of 2327 |
It was Penguin lust... at its ugliest.
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1785 of 2327 |
It was pity stayed his hand. "Pity I don't have any more bullets,"
thought Frito.
-- Harvard Lampoon, "Bored of the Rings"
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1786 of 2327 |
It was pleasant to me to get a letter from you the other day. Perhaps
I should have found it pleasanter if I had been able to decipher it. I
don't think that I mastered anything beyond the date (which I knew) and
the signature (which I guessed at). There's a singular and a perpetual
charm in a letter of yours; it never grows old, it never loses its
novelty. Other letters are read and thrown away and forgotten, but
yours are kept forever -- unread. One of them will last a reasonable
man a lifetime.
-- Thomas Aldrich
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Freebsd Fortunes 4: 1787 of 2327 |
It was raining heavily, and the motorist had car trouble on a lonely country
road. Anxious to find shelter for the night, he walked over to a farmhouse
and knocked on the front door. No one responded. He could feel the water
from the roof running down the back of his neck as he stood on the stoop.
The next time he knocked louder, but still no answer. By now he was soaked
to the skin. Desperately he pounded on the door. At last the head of a
man appeared out of an upstairs window.
"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.
"My car broke down," said the traveler, "and I want to know if you
would let me stay here for the night."
"Sure," replied the man. "If you want to stay there all night, it's
okay with me."
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