Freebsd Fortunes 7

We're Knights of the Round Table
We dance whene'er we're able
We do routines and chorus scenes        We're knights of the Round Table
With footwork impeccable                Our shows are formidable
We dine well here in Camelot            But many times
We eat ham and jam and Spam a lot.      We're given rhymes
                                        That are quite unsingable
In war we're tough and able,            We're opera mad in Camelot
Quite indefatigable                     We sing from the diaphragm a lot.
Between our quests
We sequin vests
And impersonate Clark Gable
It's a busy life in Camelot.
I have to push the pram a lot.
                -- Monty Python

We're living in a golden age.  All you need is gold.
                -- D.W. Robertson.

We're mortal -- which is to say, we're ignorant, stupid, and sinful --
but those are only handicaps.  Our pride is that nevertheless, now and
then, we do our best.  A few times we succeed.  What more dare we ask for?
                -- Ensign Flandry

"We're not talking about the same thing," he said. "For you the world is
weird because if you're not bored with it you're at odds with it. For me
the world is weird because it is stupendous, awesome, mysterious,
unfathomable; my interest has been to convince you that you must accept
responsibility for being here, in this marvelous world, in this marvelous
desert, in this marvelous time.  I wanted to convince you that you must
learn to make every act count, since you are going to be here for only a
short while, in fact, too short for witnessing all the marvels of it."
                -- Don Juan

We're only in it for the volume.
                -- Black Sabbath

Were there no women, men might live like gods.
                -- Thomas Dekker

Wernher von Braun settled for a V-2 when he coulda had a V-8.

Westheimer's Discovery:
        A couple of months in the laboratory can
        frequently save a couple of hours in the library.

Wethern's Law:
        Assumption is the mother of all screw-ups.

We've tried each spinning space mote
And reckoned its true worth:
Take us back again to the homes of men
On the cool, green hills of Earth.

The arching sky is calling
Spacemen back to their trade.
All hands!  Standby!  Free falling!
And the lights below us fade.
Out ride the sons of Terra,
Far drives the thundering jet,
Up leaps the race of Earthmen,
Out, far, and onward yet--

We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.
                -- Robert A. Heinlein, 1941