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-   -   quotation debate, part II (http://www.zefrank.com/bulletin_new/showthread.php?t=13246)

YsaPur EsChomuw 03-20-2008 03:16 PM

Words can have no single fixed meaning. Like wayward electrons, they can spin away from their initial orbit and enter a wider magnetic field. No one owns them or has a proprietary right to dictate how they will be used.

David Lehman

12"razormix 03-20-2008 03:34 PM

one must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment.

hart crane

zero 03-20-2008 05:02 PM

on may 26, 1828 a mysterious teenage boy - a foundling, appeared in the streets of nuremberg, germany. he was wearing peasant clothing and could barely talk. a shoemaker took the boy to the house of captain von wessenig, where he would only repeat, "i want to be a cavalryman, as my father was," and "horse! horse!" further demands elicited only tears, or the obstinate proclamation of "don't know." he answered few questions, and his vocabulary appeared to be quite limited.

- werner herzog, the enigma of kaspar hauser

YsaPur EsChomuw 03-24-2008 10:57 AM

A politician ought to be born a foundling and remain a bachelor.

Claudia Lady Bird Johnson

12"razormix 03-24-2008 11:37 AM

a man should be upright, not be kept upright.

marcus aurelius

zero 03-24-2008 12:10 PM

[bill foster exits his car in the middle of the highway]
guy on freeway: hey, where do you think you're going?
bill foster: i'm going home!

12"razormix 03-24-2008 02:55 PM

i'm home home
home home home
and i'm home home
home home home
but i'm miles and miles and miles and miles and miles away

sm

YsaPur EsChomuw 03-24-2008 02:59 PM

Many people think that the homeless live on the whim of the moment. One minute they are there, in a doorway – as they have been for months – the next, they’re gone. In fact, these movements are decisions. Moving on is a kind of obedience – just like leaving home in the first place.

William Brodrick: the gardens of the dead

zero 03-24-2008 03:47 PM

peter: i live with boys. the lost boys. they are well named.

YsaPur EsChomuw 03-24-2008 03:57 PM

There were people who loved all sorts of extraordinary things and lived for their passions. Haydn was a perfectly respectable passion, as were trains, she supposed. W. H. Auden, or WHA as she called him, had appreciated steam engines, and had confessed that when he was a boy he had loved a steam engine which he thought “every bit as beautiful” as a person to whom his poem was addressed. You are my steam engine, one might say, in much the same way as the French addressed their lovers as mon petit chou, my little cabbage. How strange was human passion in its expression.

Alexander McCall Smith: Friends, Lovers, Chocolate

zero 03-24-2008 04:38 PM

a nickname is the hardest stone that the devil can throw at a man.

- william hazlitt

YsaPur EsChomuw 03-24-2008 05:03 PM

It’s easier to change your eyeballs than to change your nickname.

David Mitchell: Black Swan Green

Hyakujo's Fox 03-24-2008 07:23 PM

Breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again.

~ God (attrib.)

Anna 03-24-2008 07:51 PM

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.
-Mahatma Gandhi, (attributed)

Hyakujo's Fox 03-24-2008 08:05 PM

A sailor meets a pirate in a bar, and they take turns recounting their adventures at sea. Noting the pirate's peg-leg, hook, and eye patch The sailor asks "So, how did you end up with the peg-leg?"

The pirate replies "We was caught in a monster storm off the cape and a giant wave swept me overboard. Just as they were pullin' me out, a school of sharks appeared and one of 'em bit me leg off".

"Blimey!" said the sailor. "What about the hook"?

"Ahhhh...", mused the pirate, "We were boardin' a trader ship, pistols blastin' and swords swingin' this way and that. In the fracas me hand got chopped off."

"Zounds!" remarked the sailor. "And how came ye by the eye patch"?

"A seagull droppin' fell into me eye", answered the pirate.

"You lost your eye to a seagull dropping?" the sailor asked incredulously.

"Well..." said the pirate, "..it was me first day with the hook."

~ Traditional


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