Linux Literature
fortune: 148 - 157 of 256 from linux literature
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Linux Literature

Fortune: 148 - 157 of 256 from Linux Literature

Linux Literature:  148 of 256

Reader, suppose you were an idiot.  And suppose you were a member of
Congress.  But I repeat myself.
                -- Mark Twain
 
Linux Literature:  149 of 256

Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.
                -- William Shakespeare, "Henry IV"
 
Linux Literature:  150 of 256

Remark of Dr. Baldwin's concerning upstarts: We don't care to eat toadstools
that think they are truffles.
                -- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
 
Linux Literature:  151 of 256

Repartee is something we think of twenty-four hours too late.
                -- Mark Twain
 
Linux Literature:  152 of 256

ROMEO:          Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
MERCUTIO:       No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide
                        as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve.
 
Linux Literature:  153 of 256

Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
                -- William Shakespeare, "Julius Caesar"
 
Linux Literature:  154 of 256

She is not refined.  She is not unrefined.  She keeps a parrot.
                -- Mark Twain
 
Linux Literature:  155 of 256

Sheriff Chameleotoptor sighed with an air of weary sadness, and then
turned to Doppelgutt and said 'The Senator must really have been on a
bender this time -- he left a party in Cleveland, Ohio, at 11:30 last
night, and they found his car this morning in the smokestack of a British
aircraft carrier in the Formosa Straits.'
                -- Grand Panjandrum's Special Award, 1985 Bulwer-Lytton
                   bad fiction contest.
 
Linux Literature:  156 of 256

Small things make base men proud.
                -- William Shakespeare, "Henry VI"
 
Linux Literature:  157 of 256

So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage leaf to make an apple pie;
and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street pops its head
into the shop. "What! no soap?" So he died, and she very imprudently
married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Grand
Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top, and they all
fell to playing the game of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran
out at the heels of their boots.
                -- Samuel Foote
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