(no subject)
Friday, March 14th, 2003 18:311 - Maybe the ending of Farscape is not as bad as I thought. ( Last episode spoilers. )
2 - I've never had a dream before which gave me a direct message like last night's. Okay, maybe it wasn't a very deep or profound message, but at least I understood it.
3 - A Saki Moment:
How you bore me, Florrie,
With those eyes of vacant blue;
You'll be very sorry, Florrie,
If I marry you.
Though I'm easy-goin', Florrie,
This I swear is true,
I'll throw you down a quarry, Florrie,
If I marry you.
From "The Secret Sin of Septimus Brope".
4 - Another Saki Moment:
Tell me a story," said the Baroness, staring out despairingly at the rain; it was that light, apologetic sort of rain that looks as if it was going to leave off every minute and goes on for the greater part of the afternoon.
"What sort of story?" asked Clovis, giving his croquet mallet a valedictory shove into retirement.
"One just true enough to be interesting and not true enough to be tiresome," said the Baroness.
Clovis rearranged several cushions to his personal solace and satisfaction; he knew that the Baroness liked her guests to be comfortable, and he thought it right to respect her wishes in that particular.
"Have I ever told you the story of St. Vespaluus?" he asked.
"You've told me stories about grand-dukes and lion-tamers and financiers' widows and a postmaster in Herzegovina," said the Baroness, "and about an Italian jockey and an amateur governess who went to Warsaw, and several about your mother, but certainly never anything about a saint."
The beginning of "The Story of St. Vespaluus".
2 - I've never had a dream before which gave me a direct message like last night's. Okay, maybe it wasn't a very deep or profound message, but at least I understood it.
3 - A Saki Moment:
With those eyes of vacant blue;
You'll be very sorry, Florrie,
If I marry you.
Though I'm easy-goin', Florrie,
This I swear is true,
I'll throw you down a quarry, Florrie,
If I marry you.
From "The Secret Sin of Septimus Brope".
4 - Another Saki Moment:
Tell me a story," said the Baroness, staring out despairingly at the rain; it was that light, apologetic sort of rain that looks as if it was going to leave off every minute and goes on for the greater part of the afternoon.
"What sort of story?" asked Clovis, giving his croquet mallet a valedictory shove into retirement.
"One just true enough to be interesting and not true enough to be tiresome," said the Baroness.
Clovis rearranged several cushions to his personal solace and satisfaction; he knew that the Baroness liked her guests to be comfortable, and he thought it right to respect her wishes in that particular.
"Have I ever told you the story of St. Vespaluus?" he asked.
"You've told me stories about grand-dukes and lion-tamers and financiers' widows and a postmaster in Herzegovina," said the Baroness, "and about an Italian jockey and an amateur governess who went to Warsaw, and several about your mother, but certainly never anything about a saint."
The beginning of "The Story of St. Vespaluus".