I understand the gist of your speculation,’ said Rhialto. ‘It is most likely nuncupatory.
One becomes sated with platitudes no less than honey, so that one often breaks another’s bones in one’s vexation.
I would offer congratulations were it not for this tentacle gripping my leg.
Twango’s hospitality, though largely symbolic, does him credit.
Until work has reached its previous stage nympharium privileges are denied to all.
How I hate you,” he said softly. “If hate were stone I could build a tower into the clouds.
There had been an attempt to humiliate him. It had not succeeded. He had paid, but pain, like pleasure, has no duration. Pride was an entity more persistent.
Law cannot reach where enforcement will not follow. —Popular aphorism.
What is peace? Balance three iron skewers tip to tip, one upon the other; at the summit, emplace an egg, so that it too poises static in mid-air, and there you have the condition of peace in this world of men.
Freedom, privileges, options, must constantly be exercised, even at the risk of inconvenience. Otherwise they fall into desuetude and become unfashionable, unorthodox—finally irregulationary.
The Vine of Life grows a single melon. The color of the heart is unknown until the rind is split.
But I’m so slow on it because I find it terribly hard writing blind on computers. The computer speaks to me, but it’s just so slow, I’m so terribly slow using it.