Freebsd Fortunes 4

Lions in the street and roaming,
Dogs in heat, rabid, foaming,
A beast caged in the heart of the city.
The body of his mother lying in the summer ground,
He fled the town.
Went down south across the border,
Left the chaos and disorder
Back there, over his shoulder.
One morning he awoke in a green hotel,
A strange creature groaning beside him.
Sweat oozed from its shiny skin.
Is everybody in?  The ceremony is about to begin.
                -- Jim Morrison, "Celebration of the Lizard"

LISP:
        To call a spade a thpade.

Lisp, Lisp, Lisp Machine,
Lisp Machine is Fun.
Lisp, Lisp, Lisp Machine,
Fun for everyone.

Lisp Users:
Due to the holiday next Monday, there will be no garbage collection.

Listen, there is no courage or any extra courage that I know of to find out
the right thing to do.  Now, it is not only necessary to do the right thing,
but to do it in the right way and the only problem you have is what is the
right thing to do and what is the right way to do it.  That is the problem.
But this economy of ours is not so simple that it obeys to the opinion of
bias or the pronouncements of any particular individual, even to the President.
This is an economy that is made up of 173 million people, and it reflects
their desires, they're ready to buy, they're ready to spend, it is a thing
that is too complex and too big to be affected adversely or advantageously
just by a few words or any particular -- say, a little this and that, or even
a panacea so alleged.
                -- D.D. Eisenhower, in response to: "Has the government
                been lacking in courage and boldness in facing up to
                the recession?"

Literature is mostly about having sex and not much about having children.
Life is the other way around.
                -- David Lodge

Literature is mostly about sex and not much about having children and life
is the other way round.
                -- David Lodge, "The British Museum is Falling Down"

Littering is dumb.
                -- Ronald Macdonald

Little Fly,
Thy summer's play               If thought is life
My thoughtless hand             And strength & breath,
Has brush'd away.               And the want
                                Of thought is death,
Am not I
A fly like thee?                Then am I
Or art not thou                 A happy fly
A man like me?                  If I live
                                Or if I die.

For I dance
And drink & sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
                -- William Blake, "The Fly"

Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse.
                -- Lazarus Long