At the time I now write of, Father Mapple was in the hardy winter of a healthy old age; that sort of old age which seems merging into a second flowering youth, for among all the fissures of his wrinkles, there shone certain mild gleams of a newly developing bloom–the spring verdure peeping forth even beneath February’s snow.
Moby Dick, the White Whale by Herman Melville
I could frequently distinguish the word YAHOO, which was repeated by each of them several times: and although it was impossible for me to conjecture what it meant, yet while the two horses were busy in conversation, I endeavoured to practise this word upon my tongue;
and as soon as they were silent, I boldly pronounced YAHOO in a loud voice, imitating at the same time, as near as I could, the neighing of a horse;
at which they were both visibly surprised; and the gray repeated the same word twice, as if he meant to teach me the right accent;
wherein I spoke after him as well as I could, and found myself perceivably to improve every time, though very far from any degree of perfection.
Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift
A man can’t cross a hundred thousand light years, mostly in other people’s baggage compartments, without beginning to fray a little, and Arthur had frayed a lot.
Hitchhiker’s Guide by Douglas Adams
Jules Travernier painting was inspired during the year he spent crossing America, sketching the scenes he encountered while lost in his thoughts.
My Tasks ToDo tracking list has 28 items. Starting at the top row, it’s nice to know, without having to decide, what’s to be worked on next.
All 28 tasks in the sequence can be done in one day, but completing the entire list, even at nine minutes per item, would be 252 minutes, or 4.2 hours out of the 16 available to me.
–Neuharth
Thomas Dolby – She Blinded Me With Science (YouTube )
A pretty name as one would wish to read, must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill.
There’s music in the sighing of a reed; there’s music in the gushing of a rill; there’s music in all things, if men had ears: their Earth is but an echo of the spheres.
Don Juan by Lord Byron
Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.
Chapter 3 – The Chapel, Moby Dick by Herman Melville