yours truly
- Typing thoughts
I can handle all forms of punctuation: comma, period, colon, semicolon, question mark, apostrophe, exclamation, even a cheeky backslash if the quote feels so inclined. But I cannot deal with the dash- that horrible, sneaky little son of a gun lying right in the top corner of the keyboard. That fellow is my mortal enemy. And numbers. I can't stand numbers. If I ever encounter a quote talking about a 18-year-old or something of that ilk again, I swear to the good Lord I'll go utterly ballistic!
Your Fellow Typist
- A musing on aliens and dolphin
If aliens don't have a written language, it'd be very difficult to translate what they're talking about. They might have a method of communication that's impossible for humans to be able to distinguish, not to mention replicate. The way they think dolphins talk involves producing two high-pitched tones at the same time that could very well be two different words. We don't have the ears to hear or the brains to process that. And those are mammals on earth, like us! Imagine how aliens would be!
Sufjan Stevens
- Mars
In the future, there will be no war. The loneliness outside. And the stones cry out for mercy. Will they see the Lord? The prophecy cross-eyed. As it is written, I am the God of War, I reside in every creature! Dispose of the future or put away your sword.
@FredTaming
- The peach cobbler
"Leave the peach cobbler in the kitchen alone," mother would say, going upstairs. But I couldn't help myself. I sneaked in and watched him. Watched him make his stupid little peach shoes, taunting. "Nobody's going to wear those," I'd say. "They're stupid." But on he worked.
Lord Byron
- She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes; this mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o'er her face; where thought serenely sweet express, how pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
Oscar Wilde
- From The Ballad of Reading Gaol
Yet all is well; he has but passed to life's appointed bourne: and alien tears will fill for him pity's long-broken urn, for his mourner will be outcast men, and outcasts always mourn.
Oscar Wilde
- On Art
No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of art. Vice and virtue are to the artist material for an art. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless.
Oscar Wilde
- From Salomé
It is of thy hair that I am enamoured, Jokanaan. Thy hair is like the cedars of Lebanon, like the great cedars of Lebanon that give their shade to the lions and to the robbers who would hide themselves by day. The long black nights, when the moon hides her face, when the stars are afraid, are not so black. The silence that dwells in the forest is not so black. There is nothing in the world so black as thy hair... Let me touch thy hair.
Rudyard Kipling
- Buddah at Kamakura
O ye who tread the Narrow Way, by Tophet-flare to Judgment Day, be gentle when 'the heathen' pray to Buddah at Kamakura! Yet spare us still the Western joke when joss-sticks turn to scented smoke, the little sins of little folk that worship at Kamakura.
