Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.
Archive for May, 2004
Henry David Thoreau
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13 May 2004 |
6:45 |
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G K Chesterton
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4 May 2004 |
20:24 |
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Lying in bed would be an altogether perfect and supreme experience, if only one had a coloured pen long enough to reach the ceiling.
Lying in bed would be an altogether perfect and supreme experience, if only one had a coloured pen long enough to reach the ceiling.
Mark Twain
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4 May 2004 |
20:24 |
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Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
James Facos
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3 May 2004 |
10:00 |
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1 Comment »
Electricity
Franklin sailed a key-hung kite
and watched the storm-stung flight of it.
Everyone was much impressed
but Edison made light of it.
Electricity
Franklin sailed a key-hung kite
and watched the storm-stung flight of it.
Everyone was much impressed
but Edison made light of it.
Jorge Luis Borges
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3 May 2004 |
9:51 |
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I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.
I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.
Henry David Thoreau
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3 May 2004 |
6:42 |
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I am a Parcel of Vain Strivings Tied
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
A bunch of violets without their roots,
And sorrel intermixed,
Encircled by a wisp of straw
Once coiled about their shoots,
The law
By which I’m fixed.
A nosegay which [...]
I am a Parcel of Vain Strivings Tied
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
A bunch of violets without their roots,
And sorrel intermixed,
Encircled by a wisp of straw
Once coiled about their shoots,
The law
By which I’m fixed.
A nosegay which [...]