All entries for Tuesday 15 November 2005
November 15, 2005
I may disagree strongly with all that you have said sir, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
The man who, in a fit of melancholy, kills himself today, would have wished to live had he waited a week.
Even the Devil can quote scripture to suit his purposes
Life is a grindstone; whether it grinds you down or polishes you up depends on what you're made of.
Jacob M. Braude
Nil Illigitimi Carborundum
motto of the Coldstream Guards, apparently
Yeah, another excersise, "translating" a piece of Swedish. If you don't like antinarrative, stear clear of it...
New Year, Katherine the Golden did promise to drink every morning and afternoon of come home again water. Some long water trading afternoon, the year did leave horse-fast. I Ansiget, nothing did promise and nothing did come of it. I did say before, leave us still dear father year. Sure, I know nothing of the law and therefore did vainly promise like a false-name. So I did say then, I did say leave us, good people dears, quickly, I believe. Drink-tasks hang me in tears over a cauldron of dancing mood. Dear soft nothing did I promise, then I did take some trade, and have track then after some such little brown hound. With this the law I did vainly take up the tasks, and the track did merge with the dawn of growing vanity.
Through growing forest despite careful searching it was not found. The elders had some trade and case I did say with help, stand down without treasure. Before kind Katherine’s ring of hand snapped and dear Ansiget’s year stood still at dawn, I did say through our help, leave us. That year, greetings like a helping shield did suggest that like nothing did come up through drink-forest lot, so that false first spark given that princess, did say they hoped the water fortified my tree-fire leader. Say then of the same well-made youth, our clear-jade sweet Katherine, some trader sang the I call: “Hurrah for Katherine! Hurrah for Katherine!” Katherine say leave us, lot of them crowd. Some beautifully did such drinking blow, more of more did struggle for poor blessing, more of more I Ansiget strive for heaven. Men, with this, with their “Hurrah” blew faith overland, over the track and it lit up, men say to their wives and drink-lovers.
“Cheers!” said one, to appease the dear dancing year. Night of that year was at the turn still. The greeting of the king unkind, we managed to see Ting our dear. Lock of steel of snow did embrace our young up-giver, if Pultene the sad did say of them they had any sadness without far guiding through safety later. Men did promise to leave horse-fast, growing to high-men of the young year soon for the prince. Nothing did no good get when through kind prophesy that mistakes often, she was dear soon with one man that served that king.