If my Spreadeagles Wasn’t so Tight I’d Loosen my Cursits on that Bunch of Maggiestraps...
You are in your puerity. You have not brought stinking members into the house of Amanti. Elleb Inam, Titep Notep, we name them to the Hall of Honour. Your head has been touched by the god Enel-Rah and your face has been brightened by the goddess Aruc-Ituc. Return, sainted youngling, and walk once more among us!
Ay say aye. I affirmly swear to it that it rooly and cooly boolyhooly was with my holyhagionous lips continuously poised upon the rubricated annuals of saint ulstar.
A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his eyes.
A world, a glimmer or a flower? Glimmering and trembling, trembling and unfolding, a breaking light, an opening flower, it spread in endless succession to itself, breaking in full crimson and unfolding and fading to palest rose, leaf by leaf and wave of light by wave of light, flooding all the heavens with its soft flushes, every flush deeper than the other.
Mother is packing my new secondhand clothes. She prays now, she says, that I may learn in my own life and away from home and friends what the heart is and what it feels. Amen. So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscious of my race.
There was cold sunlight outside the window.
He heard the sob passing loudly down his father’s throat and opened his eyes with a nervous impulse. The sunlight breaking suddenly on his sight turned the sky and clouds into a fantastic world of sombre masses with lakelike spaces of dark rosy light. His.
A dark horse riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winning post, his mane moonflowing, his eyeballs stars.
We were always loyal to lost causes, the professor said. Success for us is the death of the intellect and of the imagination. We were never loyal to the successful. We serve them. I teach the blatant Latin language. I speak the tongue of a race the acme of whose mentality is the maxim: time is money. Material domination.
Even if we are often led to desire through the sense of beauty can you say that the beautiful is what we desire?
The past is consumed in the present and the present is living only because it brings forth the future.
What doth it profit a man to gain the whole world if he suffer the loss of his immortal soul?
If you want to know what are the events which cast their shadow over the hell of time of King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look to see when and how the shadow lifts. What softens the heart of a man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like another Ulysses, Pericles, prince of Tyre?
What did it proft a man to gain the whole world if he lost his soul?
Into the wikeawades warld from sleep we are passing.
The rain falling. Summer rain on the earth. Night rain. The darkness and warmth and flood of passion. Tonight the earth is loved-loved and possessed. Her lover’s arms are round her: and she is silent.
God and the Blessed Virgin were too far from him: God was too great and stern and the Blessed Virgin too pure and holy.
King Solomon says in Proverbs that there is nothing new under the sun.
A dream of favours, a favourable dream. They know how they believe that they believe that they know. Wherefore they wail.