Thursday, December 02, 2010

Like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin

Herr Rot tries his hand at high-brow prose.
Posted by at
Labels:

1 comment:

Mr roT said...

Because he had heard such-like phrases murmured to him from the lips of the licentious or the venal, he hardly believed in hers; you must, he thought, beware of turgid speeches masking commonplace passions; as though the soul’s abundance does not sometimes spill over in the most decrepit metaphors, since no one can ever give the exact measure of their needs, their ideas, their afflictions, and since human speech is like a cracked cauldron on which we knock out tunes for dancing-bears, when we wish to conjure pity from the stars.

12/03/2010 6:23 AM

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)