Comments by brtom

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  • The daughter, a tall, trapesing, trolloping, talkative maypole ...

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Father-in-law has been calling me whelp and hound this half year. Now, if I pleased, I could be so revenged upon the old grumbletonian.

    Goldmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • They look woundily like Frenchmen.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • There be two gentlemen in a post-chaise at the door.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Ecod, and when I’m of age, I’ll be no bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of Bet Bouncer and the miller’s grey mare to begin with.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Ecod, and when I’m of age, I’ll be no bastard, I promise you. I have been thinking of Bet Bouncer and the miller’s grey mare to begin with.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Let some cry up woodcock or hare,

    Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons;

    But of all the gay birds in the air,

    Here’s a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Let some cry up woodcock or hare,

    Your bustards, your ducks, and your widgeons;

    But of all the gay birds in the air,

    Here’s a health to the Three Jolly Pigeons.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • I have just come from one of our agreeable tête-à-têtes.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • I have been threatened-I can scarce get it out—I have been threatened with a lover.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Tell me, Constance, how do I look this evening? Is there anything whimsical about me? Is it one of my well-looking days, child? Am I in face to-day?

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Depend upon it, child, I’ll never control your choice; but Mr. Marlow whom I have pitched upon, is the son of my old friend, Sir Charles Marlow, of whom you have heard me talk so often.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking trumpet—(TONY hallooing behind the scenes)—O, there he goes—a very consumptive figure, truly.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Latin for him! A cat and fiddle. No, no; the alehouse and the stable are the only schools he’ll ever go to.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • I hate such old-fashioned trumpery.

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, I

    January 8, 2007

  • But why can’t I be moral?—Let me try—

    My heart thus pressing—fixed my face and eye—

    With a sententious look, that nothing means,

    (Faces are blocks in sentimental scenes)

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, Prologue

    January 8, 2007

  • “I’ve that within—for which there are no plasters!"

    Goldsmith, She Stoops, Prologue

    January 8, 2007

  • I like the way Ralph Ellison in Invislbe Man adapts this word as the name of the building in which the narrator is introduced to The Brotherhood:

    We stopped before an expensive-looking building in a strange part of the city. I could see the word Chthonian on the storm awning stretched above the walk as I got out with the others and went swiftly toward a lobby lighted by dim bulbs set behind frosted glass, going past the uniformed doorman with an uncanny sense of familiarity; feeling now, as we entered a sound-proof elevator and shot away at a mile a minute, that I had been through it all before.

    Ellison, Invisible Man, 14

    Funny how a mythical allusion works the mind, transforming the subsequent details into something altogether new - making an up-to-now hidden world out of details from the ordinary world. The character is being ushered into an "underground" by going up in an elevator.

    January 7, 2007

  • Did you (or eliot) mean chthonic? cool word ...

    January 7, 2007

  • -- I plunged a bit, said Boylan winking and drinking.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • Miss Douce reached high to take a flagon, stretching her satin arm, her bust, that all but burst, so high.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • A duodene of birdnotes chirruped bright treble answer under sensitive hands.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    ... twelve notes?

    January 7, 2007

  • From the saloon a call came, long in dying. That was a tuningfork the tuner had that he forgot that he now struck. Acall again. That he now poised that it now throbbed. You hear? It throbbed, pure, purer, softly and softlier, its buzzing prongs. Longer in dying call.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • -- Two pence, sir, the shopgirl dared to say.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • He see. He drank. With faraway mourning mountain eye. Set down his glass.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • She took no notice while he read by rote a solfa fable for her, plappering flatly ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • She took no notice while he read by rote a solfa fable for her, plappering flatly ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • -- Well now, I am, he mused. I looked so simple in the cradle they christened me simple Simon.

    -- You must have been a doaty, Miss Douce made answer.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    ... probably a variant of dotty?

    January 7, 2007

  • Douce gave full vent to a splendid yell, a full yell of full woman, delight, joy, indignation.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • He might be Mulligan. All comely virgins. That brings those rakes of fellows in: her white.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • I asked that old fogey in Boyd's for something for my skin.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • Miss Kennedy with manners transposed the teatray down to an upturned lithia crate, safe from eyes, low.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 11

    January 7, 2007

  • In Grafton street Master Dignam saw a red flower in a toff's mouth and a swell pair of kicks on him and he listening to what the drunk was telling him and grinning all the time.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • As he strode past Mr Bloom's dental windows the sway of his dustcoat brushed rudely from its angle a slender tapping cane and swept onwards, having buffeted a thewless body.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • Buck Mulligan's primrose waistcoat shook gaily to his laughter.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • -- I'm sorry, he said. Shakespeare is the happy huntingground of all minds that have lost their balance.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • -- You can tell Barabbas from me, Ben Dollard said, that he can put that writ where Jacko put the nuts.

    He led Father Cowley boldly forward linked to his bulk.

    -- Filberts I believe they were, Mr Dedalus said, as he dropped his glasses on his coatfront, following them.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • Late lieabed under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck bracelet, Dan Kelly's token.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • The lacquey by the door of Dillon's auctionrooms shook his handbell twice again and viewed himself in the chalked mirror of the cabinet.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    ... interesting variant of lackey ...

    January 7, 2007

  • -- But wait till I tell you, he said. We had a midnight lunch too after all the jollification and when we sallied forth it was blue o'clock the morning after the night before.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • After liquids came solids. Cold joints galore and mince pies.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • -- Sacrifizio incruento, Stephen said smiling, swaying his ashplant in slow swingswong from its midpoint, lightly.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • The lychgate of a field showed Father Conmee breadths of cabbages, curtseying to him with ample underleaves.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • Father Conmee thought of that tyrannous incontinence, needed however for men's race on earth, and of the ways of God which were not our ways.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • And smiled yet again in going. He had cleaned his teeth, he knew, with arecanut paste.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • Father Conmee doffed his silk hat, as he took leave, at the jet beads of her mantilla inkshining in the sun.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 10

    January 7, 2007

  • You have brought us all this way to show us a French triangle. Do you believe your own theory?

    -- No, Stephen said promptly.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Fabulous artificer, the hawklike man. You flew. Whereto?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a wand of wilding in his hand.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a wand of wilding in his hand.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a wand of wilding in his hand.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Enter Magee Mor Matthew, a rugged rough rugheaded kern, in strossers with a buttoned codpiece, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a wand of wilding in his hand.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • -- Saint Thomas, Stephen, smiling, said, whose gorbellied works I enjoy reading in the original ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • I think you're getting on very nicely. Just mix up a mixture of theolologicophilolological. Mingo, minxi, mictum, mingere.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • I asked him what he thought of the charge of pederasty brought against the bard. He lifted his hands and said: All we can say is that life ran very high in those days. Lovely!

    Catamite.

    -- The sense of beauty leads us astray, said beautifulinsadness Best to ugling Eglinton.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • -- Lovely! Buck Mulligan suspired amorously.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • The gombeen woman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to vie with her of Sheba.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • Hot herringpies, green mugs of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 6, 2007

  • -- And we to be there, mavrone, and you to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way we to have our tongues out a yard long like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a pussful.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • -- The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • Stephen looked down on a wide headless caubeen, hung on his ashplanthandle over his knee.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • -- He had a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, and no truant memory.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • John Eglinton looked in the tangled glowworm of his lamp.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • -- That model schoolboy, Stephen said, would find Hamlet's musings about the afterlife of his princely soul, the improbable, insignificant and undramatic monologue, as shallow as Plato's.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • Hiesos Kristos, magician of the beautiful, the Logos who suffers in us at every moment.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step backward a sinkapace on the solemn floor.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 9

    January 5, 2007

  • Rawhead and bloody bones. Flayed glasseyed sheep hung from their haunches, sheepsnouts bloodypapered snivelling nosejam on sawdust.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Every fellow for his own, tooth and nail. Gulp. Grub. Gulp. Gobstuff.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Molly looks out of plumb.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Only weggebobbles and fruit.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Meshuggah. Off his chump.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • He did come a wallop, by George. Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Time someone thought about it instead of gassing about the what was it the pensive bosom of the silver effulgence. Flapdoodle to feed fools on.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Sit her horse like a man. Weightcarrying huntress. No sidesaddle or pillion for her, not for Joe.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • -- Who is he if it's a fair question, Mrs Breen asked. Is he dotty?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny. I'm hungry too.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Hot mockturtle vapour and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out from Harrison's.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Our great day, she said. Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Sweet name too: caramel.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Well out of that ruck I am. Devil of a job it was collecting accounts of those convents.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Swans from Anna Liffey swim down here sometimes to preen themselves. No accounting for tastes.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Good Lord, that poor child's dress is in flitters. Underfed she looks too.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • Sitting on his throne, sucking red jujubes white.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 8

    January 3, 2007

  • definition: pig's foot

    January 2, 2007

  • Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mail-vans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, lolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Florence MacCabe takes a crubeen and a bottle of double X for supper every Saturday.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at the north city dining rooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, proprietress...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • The masters of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • His eyes bethought themselves once more. Witless shellfish swam in the gross lenses to and fro, seeking outlet.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- It was the speech, mark you, the professor said, of a finished orator, full of courteous haughtiness and pouring in chastened diction, I will not say the vials of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the new movement.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- Gave it to them on a hot plate, Myles Crawford said, the whole bloody history.

    Nightmare from which you will never awake.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • An illstarched dicky jutted up and with a rude gesture he thrust it back into his waistcoat.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher used to say when he was on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Clarence.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- I want you to write something for me, he said. Something with a bite in it. You can do it. I see it in your face. In the lexicon of youth...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Whose mother is beastly dead.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • The Roman, like the Englishman who follows in his footsteps, brought to every new shore on which he set his foot (on our shore he never set it) only his cloacal obsession. He gazed about him in his toga and he said: It is meet to be here. Let us construct a watercloset.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • He began to mazurka in swift caricature across the floor on sliding feet past the fireplace ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • He took a reel of dental floss from his waistcoat pocket and, breaking off a piece, twanged it smartly between two and two of his resonant unwashed teeth.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- Getououthat, you bloody old pedagogue! the editor said in recognition.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • -- O! Mr Dedalus cried, giving vent to a hopeless groan, shite and onions!

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • - Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Martin Cunningham forgot to give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Three bob I lent him in Meagher's.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Dear Mr Editor, what is a good cure for flatulence?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 7

    January 2, 2007

  • We are praying now for the repose of his soul. Hoping you're well and not in hell.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Now who is that lankylooking galoot over there in the macintosh?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Tantalising for the poor dead. Smell of frilled beefsteaks to the starving gnawing their vitals. Desire to grig people.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Wonder how he had the gumption to propose to any girl.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • -- The others are putting on their hats, Mr Kernan said. I suppose we can do so too. We are the last. This cemetery is a treacherous place.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Makes them feel more important to be prayed over in Latin.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Leanjawed harpy, hard woman at a bargain, her bonnet awry.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Blazing face: redhot. Too much John Barleycorn. Cure for a red nose. Drink like the devil till it turns adelite. A lot of money he spent colouring it.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Mi trema un poco il. Beautiful on that tre her voice is: weeping tone. A thrust. A throstle. There is a word throstle that expressed that.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the veiled sun, hurled a mute curse at the sky.

    -- It's as uncertain as a child's bottom, he said.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Corny might have given us a more commodious yoke, Mr Power said.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • Pull it more to your side. Our windingsheet. Never know who will touch you dead. Wash and shampoo. I believe they clip the nails and the hair.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 6

    January 1, 2007

  • He sped off towards Conway's corner. God speed scut.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • He waited by the counter, inhaling the keen reek of drugs, the dusty dry smell of sponges and loofahs.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • He ought to physic himself a bit. Electuary or emulsion.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • The priest and the massboy stood up and walked off.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • And just imagine that. Wife and six children at home. And plotting that murder all the time. Those crawthumpers, now that's a good name for them, there's always something shiftylooking about them.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • The bungholes sprang open and a huge dull flood leaked out, flowing together, winding through mudflats all over the level land, a lazy pooling swirl of liquor bearing along wideleaved flowers of its froth.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • He turned into Cumberland street and, going on some paces, halted in the lee of the station wall.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • By Brady's cottages a boy for the skins lolled, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 5

    December 31, 2006

  • Hands stuck in his trousers pockets, jarvey off for the day, singing.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 4

    December 31, 2006

  • You pay eight marks and they plant a dunam of land for you with olives, oranges, almonds or citrons.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 4

    December 31, 2006

  • what the cat says to Bloom in Ulysses, chapter 4

    December 31, 2006

  • ... lifted the kettle off the hob and set it sideways on the fire.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 4

    December 31, 2006

  • Gelid light and air were in the kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 4

    December 31, 2006

  • It flows purling, widely flowing, floating foampool, flower unfurling.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Wrist through the braided jess of her sunshade.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • She, she, she. What she? The virgin at Hodges Figgis' window on Monday looking in for one of the alphabet books you were going to write. Keen glance you gave her.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Flat I see, then think distance, near, far, flat I see, east, back. Ah, see now. Falls back suddenly, frozen in stereoscope.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • She trudges, schlepps, trains, drags, trascines her load.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, frate porcospino. Unfallen Adam rode and not rutted.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the ground, moves to one great goal. Ah, poor dogsbody. Here lies poor dogsbody's body.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • A school of turlehide whales stranded in hot noon, spouting, hobbling in the shallows.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • They have tucked it safe among the bulrushes. Peekaboo. I see you. No, the dog. He is running back to them. Who?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • He climbed over the sedge and eely oarweeds and sat on a stool of rock, resting his ashplant in a grike.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • He lifted his feet up from the suck and turned back by the mole of boulders.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Through the barbicans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet are sinking, creeping duskward over the dial floor.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Spurned lover. I was a strapping young gossoon at that time, I tell you, I'll show you my likeness one day.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • There was a fellow I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to call it his postprandial. Well: slainte! Around the slabbed tables the tangle of wined breaths and grumbling gorges.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • About us gobblers fork spiced beans down their gullets.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • A porter-bottle stood up, stogged to its waist, in the cakey sand dough. A sentinel: isle of dreadful thirst.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • You prayed to the devil in Serpentine avenue that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the wet street.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • A garland of grey hair on his comminated head see him me clambering down to the footpace (descende), clutching a monstrance, basiliskeyed.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • His tuneful whistle sounds again, finely shaded, with rushes of the air, his fists bigdrumming on his padded knees.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Cleanchested. He has washed the upper moiety.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • They take me for a dun, peer out from a coign of vantage.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • My consubstantial father's voice. Did you see anything of your artist brother Stephen lately? No?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • By the way go easy with that money like a good young imbecile. Yes, I must.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • With beaded mitre and with crozier, stalled upon his throne, widower of a widowed see, with upstiffed omophorion, with clotted hinderparts.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the other's gamp poked in the beach.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • A catalectic tetrameter of iambs marching.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 3

    December 30, 2006

  • A coughball of laughter leaped from his throat dragging after it a rattling chain of phlegm.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • ... their heads thickplotting under maladroit silk hats.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • The lodge of Diamond in Armagh the splendid behung with corpses of papishes.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Mr Deasy stared sternly for some moments over the mantelpiece at the shapely bulk of a man in tartan fillibegs: Albert Edward, Prince of Wales.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • His seacold eyes looked on the empty bay ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • He stood in the porch and watched the laggard hurry towards the scrappy field where sharp voices were in strife.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Across the page the symbols moved in grave morrice, in the mummery of their letters, wearing quaint caps of squares and cubes.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Across the page the symbols moved in grave morrice, in the mummery of their letters, wearing quaint caps of squares and cubes.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • ... and on a heath beneath winking stars a fox, red reek of rapine in his fur, with merciless bright eyes scraped in the earth, listened, scraped up the earth, listened, scraped and scraped.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Quickly they were gone and from the lumberroom came the rattle of sticks and clamour of their boots and tongues.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Tranquillity sudden, vast, candescent: form of forms.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • He recited jerks of verse with odd glances at the text ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • -- Kingstown pier, Stephen said. Yes, a disappointed bridge. The words troubled their gaze.

    -- How, sir? Comyn asked. A bridge is across a river.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • Asculum, Stephen said, glancing at the name and date in the gorescarred book.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 2

    December 29, 2006

  • the obsidian gleam of crow

    suzanne, suzzanagig jig

    December 29, 2006

  • My twelfth rib is gone, he cried. I'm the Uebermensch. Toothless Kinch and I, the supermen.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • A young man clinging to a spur of rock near him moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the deep jelly of the water.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • ... warring his life long upon the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father ...

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • You pique my curiosity, Haines said amiably. Is it some paradox?

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • That one about the cracked lookingglass of a servant being the symbol of Irish art is deuced good.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • Today the bards must drink and junket.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • ... their common cuckquean, a messenger from the secret morning.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • Begob, ma'am, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the one pot.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • We'll have a glorious drunk to astonish the druidy druids.

    Joyce, Ulysses, 1

    December 29, 2006

  • i continue to wage war against this term (in relation to me) ... and am never ever too successful ...

    December 26, 2006

  • In theory, this would benefit our nascent major programs as well as the general education curriculum ...

    Joseph Duemer, Sharp Sand

    December 22, 2006

  • The president is about to escalate himself into a full-scale maelstrom.

    Joseph Duemer, Sharp Sand

    December 22, 2006

  • "Language ordered around an absolute Word (logos) which is “masculine�? phallic, systematically excludes, disqualifies, denigrates, diminishes, silences the “feminine�? (Nikita Dhawan).

    found at Introduction to Modern Literary Theory

    December 22, 2006

  • I’m developing an aesthetic theory which I’m calling the Gurlesque (I’ll explain why a bit later), a theory which emerged organically from my reading a steady stream of books by women poets published in the last several years: women who, like myself, were raised during the feminist movement of the 1960s and 70s.

    Arielle Greenberg

    December 21, 2006

  • The trees are wretched splinter-sculptures and the strip malls are alive with kitschy holiday heraldry.

    K. Silem Mohammad, lime tree

    December 21, 2006

  • She reigns

    in eventual pantheons

    of book store cahiers ...

    Raymond Farr, in As/Is

    December 21, 2006

  • ... the men carve

    the hunted beast

    cleaving it

    joist to joist.

    Rachel Phillips, in As/Is

    December 21, 2006

  • I do not

    trawl the web,

    rather step

    delicately, as if

    in a field of

    glass.

    Mark Young, in As/Is

    December 21, 2006

  • ... my monocle bent towards asphalt

    Andrew Lundwall, on the communal As/Is

    December 21, 2006

  • Her longitudes are wickedness.

    Her anvil is corporeal sorrow.

    Raymond Farr, on the communal As/Is

    December 21, 2006

  • i think it can go either way ... but i'm partial to "dote" ... with that wierd canadian thingy that i can't imitate in the "o"... btw, i just noticed the dash after the word ... my bad ... but it reminds me to wonder if there's any way to edit the posted word (the way we can edit comments) ... or must one delete the word altogether and repost? ... but that would dump the comments ... hmmm

    December 21, 2006

  • . . . and here, dear Reader, one’s got, no doughbt—(it comes out, a yeasty thing)—one’s metaphorickal Panties in a Bunch.

    John Latta, Isola di Rifiuti

    cool portmanteau

    December 20, 2006

  • ...and lingering hypnogogic for sleep

    no more cling-clanging bells

    to awaken

    suzanne, suzannagig jig

    December 20, 2006

  • ... the Sun's lucent Orbe ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 20, 2006

  • ...Embryo's and Idiots, Eremits and Friers

    White, Black and Grey, with all thir trumperie.

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 20, 2006

  • be

    beditation

    begin

    befriend

    behest

    bedazzle

    befrenzy

    beget

    suzanne, suzannagig jig

    December 20, 2006

  • be

    beditation

    begin

    befriend

    behest

    bedazzle

    befrenzy

    beget

    suzanne, suzannagig jig

    December 20, 2006

  • To embrace a truth at the price of one's vanity repays the cost in the coin of equanimity.

    Nick Piombino, Fait Accompli

    December 19, 2006

  • in the depths of my spirit

    I feel capable of doing just that

    of kissing into wakefulness

    a man, in parts ensorcelled ...

    suzanne, suzannajig gig

    December 19, 2006

  • ... Petulance (and its child by Desuetude, Disgust) up against the moronic Starry-Eyed, jejune Rabble-Rouse spitting at the feet of Big Dictum ...

    John Latta, Isola di Rifiuti

    This is a good example of the amazingly worded wilderness through which Mr. Latta cuts his path ... I think of the jungles of Henri Rousseau ...

    December 19, 2006

  • ... that miscible rendering (undistill’d) of sheer barmy Discovery up against hare-brain’d Gossip ...

    John Latta, Isola di Rifiuti

    December 19, 2006

  • To be experienced these feelings must settle a bit and then be ...marinated, like an assemblage of tasty spices, meats and potatoes.

    Nick Piombino, Fait Accompli

    December 19, 2006

  • And they who to be sure of Paradise

    Dying put on the weeds of Dominic,

    Or in Franciscan think to pass disguis'd ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • Dislodging from a Region scarce of prey

    To gorge the flesh of Lambs or yeanling Kids ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • Hail Son of God, Saviour of Men, thy Name

    Shall be the copious matter of my Song ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • Begotten Son, Divine Similitude

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • Then Crown'd again thir gold'n Harps they took,

    Harps ever tun'd, that glittering by thir side

    Like Quivers hung ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • But all ye Gods,

    Adore him, who to compass all this dies,

    Adore the Son, and honour him as mee.

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 19, 2006

  • ... under thee as Head Supream

    Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions I reduce ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... under thee as Head Supream

    Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions I reduce ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... and equally enjoying

    God-like fruition, quitted all to save

    A World from utter loss ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • So Heav'nly love shall outdoo Hellish hate,

    Giving to death, and dying to redeeme,

    So dearly to redeem what Hellish hate

    So easily destroy'd, and still destroyes ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • His words here ended, but his meek aspect

    Silent yet spake, and breath'd immortal love

    To mortal men, above which only shon

    Filial obedience ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • I through the ample Air in Triumph high

    Shall lead Hell Captive maugre Hell, and show

    The powers of darkness bound.

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • Attonement for himself or offering meet,

    Indebted and undon, hath none to bring ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... on mans behalf

    Patron or Intercessor none appeerd,

    Much less that durst upon his own head draw

    The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set.

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • Man disobeying,

    Disloyal breaks his fealtie, and sinns

    Against the high Supremacie of Heav'n ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill'd

    All Heav'n ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... for so

    I formd them free, and free they must remain,

    Till they enthrall themselves ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... whose fault?

    Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of mee

    All he could have ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • On the bare outside of this World, that seem'd

    Firm land imbosom'd without Firmament ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost, III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... and from his sight receiv'd

    Beatitude past utterance ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • ... as the wakeful Bird

    Sings darkling, and in shadiest Covert hid

    Tunes her nocturnal Note.

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,

    Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd

    In that obscure sojourn ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost III

    December 18, 2006

  • That Satan with less toil, and now with ease

    Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost II

    December 18, 2006

  • Thither full fraught with mischievous revenge,

    Accurst, and in a cursed hour he hies.

    Milton, Paradise Lost II

    December 18, 2006

  • ah yes, easter eggs ... and the word lists brings up a list of all the lists ...

    December 18, 2006

  • I've added the plural of "index" just to mark some form of the word's presence on Wordie. There apparently can be no wordie-page for "index" ... since that term always brings one back to the main page. But, for me, the index is one of the coolest parts of a book.

    I've got no particular bias against indices, but contemporary indexers seem to prefer "indexes."

    December 18, 2006

  • Zelo zelatus sum pro Domino Deo exercituum

    Vulgate, 1 Kings 19:14

    December 18, 2006

  • Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd 5

    To that bad eminence ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost, II

    December 18, 2006

  • So numberless were those bad Angels seen

    Hovering on wing under the Cope of Hell ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost, I

    December 17, 2006

  • The mind is its own place, and in it self

    Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.

    Milton, Paradise Lost, I

    December 17, 2006

  • ... or that Sea-beast

    Leviathan, which God of all his works

    Created hugest that swim th' Ocean stream ...

    Milton, Paradise Lost I

    December 17, 2006

  • Next this marble venom'd seat

    Smear'd with gumms of glutenous heat

    I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,

    Now the spell hath lost his hold ...

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for that

    Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • O foolishnes of men! that find their ears

    To those budge doctors of the Stoick Furr,

    And fetch their precepts from the Cynick Tub,

    Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence.

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • Not that Nepenthes which the wife of Thone,

    In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena

    Is of such power to stir up joy as this ...

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • And first behold this cordial Julep here

    That flames, and dances in his crystal bounds

    With spirits of balm, and fragrant Syrops mixt.

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that livst unseen

    Within thy airy shell

    By slow Meander's margent green ...

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • This is the place, as well as I may guess,

    Whence eev'n now the tumult of loud Mirth

    Was rife, and perfet in my list'ning ear...

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • I under fair pretence of friendly ends,

    And well plac't words of glozing courtesie

    Baited with reasons not unplausible

    Wind me into the easie-hearted man,

    And hugg him into snares.

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove

    Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move ...

    Milton, Comus

    December 16, 2006

  • Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide

    Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world

    Milton, Lycidas

    December 15, 2006

  • Alas! What boots it with uncessant care

    To tend the homely slighted Shepherds trade ...

    Milton, Lycidas

    December 15, 2006

  • O Fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted Milton, On the Death of a Fair Infant Dying of a Cough

    December 15, 2006

  • And sought to hide his froth-becurlèd head Milton, PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV.

    December 15, 2006

  • transition?

    December 13, 2006

  • If nature will not tell the tale

    Jehovah told to her

    Can human nature not survive

    Without a listener?

    Emily Dickinson, from J. 1748

    December 12, 2006

  • The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost, become him well—pride is for him ...

    Whitman, "In Sing the Body Electric"

    December 11, 2006

  • Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous

    Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"

    December 11, 2006

  • This is the female form;

    A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot ...

    Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"

    December 11, 2006

  • And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"

    December 11, 2006

  • The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them ... Whitman, "I Sing the Body Electric"

    December 11, 2006

  • The unpent enthusiasm—-the wild cheers of the crowd for their favorites Whitman, "Drum-Taps"

    December 11, 2006

  • About my body for me, and your body for you, be hung our divinest aromas; Whitman, "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry"

    December 11, 2006

  • Consider, you who peruse me, whether I may not in unknown ways be looking upon you ... Whitman, "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry"

    December 11, 2006

  • Suspend here and everywhere, eternal float of solution! Whitman, "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry"

    December 11, 2006

  • strikes me how ... mostly ... these are real ugly words

    December 10, 2006

  • I lay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask you--or the likes of you. HF 33

    December 9, 2006

  • Cushion me soft ... rock me in a billowy drowse ... Whitman, Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • I chant a new chant of dilation or pride ... Whitman, Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • The pedlar sweats with his pack on his back -- the purchaser higgles about the odd cent. Whitman, Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • The proof of a poet is that his country absorbs him as affectionately as he has absorbed it. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • An individual is as superb as a nation when he has the qualities which make a superb nation. The soul of the largest and wealthiest and proudest nation may well go half-way to meet that of its poets. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The English language befriends the grand American expression—it is brawny enough, and limber and full enough. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • A great poem is for ages and ages in common, and for all degrees and complexions, and all departments and sects, and for a woman as much as a man, and a man as much as a woman. A great poem is no finish to a man or woman, but rather a beginning. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The prudence of the greatest poet answers at last the craving and glut of the soul, puts off nothing ... Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • ... the ghastly chatter of a death without serenity or majesty ... Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • Clean and vigorous children are jetted and conceiv’d only in those communities where the models of natural forms are public every day. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • Of ornaments to a work nothing outre can be allow’d ... Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • Of the human form especially, it is so great it must never be made ridiculous. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • He sees health for himself in being one of the mass—he sees the hiatus in singular eminence. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • It is also not consistent with the reality of the soul to admit that there is anything in the known universe more divine than men and women. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The innocence and nakedness are resumed—they are neither modest nor immodest. Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • They shall be Kosmos, without monopoly or secrecy, glad to pass anything to any one—hungry for equals night and day. Whitman, Preface 1855

    Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son ... Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • Did you suppose there could be only one Supreme? We affirm there can be unnumber’d Supremes, and that one does not countervail another any more than one eyesight countervails another—and that men can be good or grand only of the consciousness of their supremacy within them. Whitman, Preface 1855

    The supernatural of no account, myself waiting my time to be one of the supremes... Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • Let who may exalt or startle or fascinate or soothe, I will have purposes as health or heat or snow has, and be as regardless of observation. Walt Whitman, Preface 1855

    I believe in those winged purposes ... Song of Myself

    December 9, 2006

  • The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity. Walt Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The greatest poet forms the consistence of what is to be, from what has been and is. Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The fruition of beauty is no chance of miss or hit—it is as inevitable as life—it is exact and plumb as gravitation.

    Whitman, Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • Nothing can jar him—suffering and darkness cannot—death and fear cannot. Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • What baulks or breaks others is fuel for his burning progress to contact and amorous joy. Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • The time straying toward infidelity and confections and persiflage he withholds by steady faith. Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • Here at last is something in the doings of man that corresponds with the broadcast doings of the day and night. Preface 1855

    December 9, 2006

  • and Merriam-Webster Word of the Year 2006

    December 9, 2006

  • red state, blue state, purple state

    December 9, 2006

  • Word of the Year 1999 was Y2K.

    Word of the 1990s Decade was web.

    Word of the Twentieth Century was jazz.

    Word of the Past Millennium was she.

    http://www.americandialect.org/index.php/amerdial/1999_words_of_the_year_word_of_the_1990s_word_of_the_20th_century_word_of_t/

    December 9, 2006

  • t is just a single letter of the alphabet, but the hyphenated prefix e- loomed so large in American discourse in 1998 that members and friends of the American Dialect Society at their annual meeting voted it Word (or perhaps Lexical Entity) of the Year, as well as Most Useful and Most Likely to Succeed.

    http://www.americandialect.org/index.php/amerdial/1998_words_of_the_year/

    December 9, 2006

  • as in soccer mom, the newly significant type of voter courted by both candidates during the presidential campaign. That phrase spun off other designations such as minivan mom and waitress mom.

    http://www.americandialect.org/index.php/amerdial/1996_words_of_the_ye/

    December 9, 2006

  • ... and I see we hadn't no time to lose. So Tom said, now for the nonnamous letters. HF 39

    December 9, 2006

  • He could out-superintend any boy I ever see. He knowed how to do everything. HF 38

    December 9, 2006

  • your wool-gethering memory HF 37

    December 9, 2006

  • ...and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one hand and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the other... HF 37

    December 9, 2006

  • hiya ... my tenth graders have trouble pronouncing them, too ... the other day one created a sentence something like "When he cut me off in traffic I responded with a string of harsh euphemisms." ... nice oxymoron ... but i've got my work cut out for me ... they also came to believe (thanks to our unclear textbook) that "effete" meant "tired" ... so we ended up with sentences like ... "After running thirty laps and dropping for twenty, we were certainly an effete team."

    December 8, 2006

  • "Letting on don't cost nothing; letting on ain't no trouble; and if it's any object, I don't mind letting on we was at it a hundred and fifty year. HF 35

    December 8, 2006

  • S'pose he don't do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, for a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want clews? HF 35

    December 8, 2006

  • "I was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack." HF 33

    December 8, 2006

  • These are words I would prefer not to find in my students' formal papers or speeches.

    December 7, 2006

  • I'd seen all I wanted to of them, and wanted to get entirely shut of them. HF 31

    December 7, 2006

  • She was the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand. HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • "The whole bilin' of 'm 's frauds! Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em!"

    December 7, 2006

  • ... for if the excited fools hadn't let go all holts and made that rush to get a look we'd a slept in our cravats to-night ... HF 30

    December 7, 2006

  • ... and it most scared the livers and lights out of me. HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out cheek. HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • Blamed if the king didn't have to brace up mighty quick, or he'd a squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took him so sudden... HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not for the king's friends HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • ... like a jug that's googling out buttermilk ... HF 29

    December 7, 2006

  • Why, you talk like a muggins. HF 28

    December 7, 2006

  • I never see such a girafft as the king was for wanting to swallow everything. HF 27

    December 7, 2006

  • I reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn't a done it no neater himself. Of course he would a throwed more style into it, but I can't do that very handy, not being brung up to it. HF 27

    December 7, 2006

  • so it's my bounden duty ... HF 28

    December 7, 2006

  • Well, the funeral sermon was very good, but pison long and tiresome HF 27

    December 7, 2006

  • Then the king 'll get it again, and it 'll be a long day before he gives anybody another chance to smouch it from him. HF 27

    December 7, 2006

  • I dasn't do it. HF 26

    December 7, 2006

  • I'll hive that money for them or bust. HF 26

    December 7, 2006

  • They can't bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. HF 26

    December 7, 2006

  • The king said the cubby would do for his valley -- meaning me. HF 26

    December 7, 2006

  • The king said the cubby would do for his valley -- meaning me. HF 26

    December 7, 2006

  • "...and so it's fitten that his funeral orgies sh'd be public." HF 25

    December 7, 2006

  • ... and help set up with the ashes of the diseased ... HF 25

    December 7, 2006

  • ...all that kind of rot and slush ... HF 25

    December 7, 2006

  • ... and then they put their arms around each other's necks, and hung their chins over each other's shoulders; and then for three minutes, or maybe four, I never see two men leak the way they done. HF 25

    December 7, 2006

  • ... a dissentering minister ... HF 24

    December 7, 2006

  • ,,, but these are the ones that Peter was thickest with ... HF 24

    December 7, 2006

  • The king's duds was all black ... HF 24

    December 7, 2006

  • I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the audience ... HF23

    December 7, 2006

  • "... and then shin for the raft like the dickens was after you!" HF 23

    December 7, 2006

  • "We are sold -- mighty badly sold. But we don't want to be the laughing stock of this whole town, I reckon ... HF 23

    December 7, 2006

  • ... it can have all of my custom every time. HF 22

    December 7, 2006

  • ...and then how the horses did lean over and hump themselves! HF 22

    December 7, 2006

  • It was a real bully circus. HF 22

    December 7, 2006

  • You must be a blame' fool. HF 16

    December 5, 2006

  • ... but when he says this it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. HF 16

    December 5, 2006

  • But other times they just lazy around, or go hawking--just hawking and sp-- Sh!--d'you hear a noise? HF 14

    December 5, 2006

  • The seegars was prime. HF 14

    December 5, 2006

  • i. e. grade 10

    December 4, 2006

  • that is, "going"

    December 4, 2006

  • that is, "by and by"

    December 4, 2006

  • I catched a catfish and haggled him open with my saw ...

    December 4, 2006

  • i use it only in context of the male branch (my experience) of the carmelite order ... no slight intended to the sisters

    December 3, 2006

  • J. 641, Franklin 707

    December 3, 2006

  • J. 329, Franklin 608

    December 3, 2006

  • Watch while I bluppen the stale gray dawn.

    December 3, 2006

  • No one should approach our dear ondivorant Nicholas for the next few hours.

    December 3, 2006

  • It's linqwap ... there between the second and third molars.

    December 3, 2006

  • no no... yr good ... & i'm an english teacher ... and i write obscure pomes at http://brtom.typepad.com/one/

    December 3, 2006

  • a writer? ... must be ... if ... but you pose a ... my head is ... imploding ... a savage parlor ... sorry

    December 3, 2006

  • The vuposin kept me indoors all week.

    December 3, 2006

  • David has been the most notorious expagulator of our time.

    December 3, 2006

  • good ones ... thanks!

    December 3, 2006

  • A sniboluous gale blew in from the gutter.

    December 3, 2006

  • Erich's prompillent maneuvers kept him in the lobby.

    December 3, 2006

  • We shall not alligavate; we shall not presume.

    December 3, 2006

  • Not even the domestic polecat notices the erx anymore.

    December 3, 2006

  • The glitensor slipped in my fingers and startled the President.

    December 3, 2006

  • Propelled by his condurvent manner, we spun off to The Container Store.

    December 3, 2006

  • from The Crying of Lot 49 ... clearly a nod to Nabokov

    December 3, 2006

  • entropy ... o yes, this is a most obvious & necessary one ... it just didn't show up on any of the random pages i was hitting ... my process for listing will be characterized by randomness ... Schwarzgerät ... i'm not sure what to do with certain characteristic proper names ... & yes nymphet is totally Nabokov, but i don't & probably won't have a Nabokov list ... so ...

    thanks for dropping by, guys ...

    December 3, 2006

  • They became exhausted in imitation of them; and they yaw-yawed in their speech like them; and they served out, with an enervated air, the little mouldy rations of political economy, on which they regaled their disciples. Hard Times, Book the Second, Chapter II

    December 3, 2006

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