View source for Page 238

From FinnegansWiki

← Page 238

You do not have permission to edit this page, for the following reasons:

• The action you have requested is limited to users in the group: Users.
• You must confirm your email address before editing pages. Please set and validate your email address through your user preferences.

---

You can view and copy the source of this page.

[[TOC]] [[Page 237]] [[Page 239]] delenes, were drawpairs with two pinmarks, BVD and BVD dot, so want lotteries of ticklets posthastem (you appreciate?) so as to be very dainty, if an isaspell, and so as to be verily dandydainty, if an ishibilley, of and on, to and for, by and with, from you. Let the [[hitback]] hurry his wayward ere the missive has time to take herself off, 'twill be o'erthemore willfully intomeet if the coming offence can send our shudders before. We <I>f</I>eem to have being el<I>f</I>ewhere as tho' th' had pa<I>f</I>s'd in our <I>f</I>u<I>f</I>pens. Next to our shrinking selves we love sensitivas best. For they are the Ang&egrave;les. Brick, fauve, jonquil, sprig, fleet, nocturne, smiling bruise. For they are an Ang&egrave;le's garment. We will be constant (what a word!) and bless the day, for whole hours too, yes, for sold long syne as we shall be heing in our created being of ours elvishness, the day you befell, you dreadful temptation! Now promisus as at our requisted you will remain ignorant of all what you hear and, though if whilst disrobing to the edge of risk, (the [[bisifings in idolhours that satinfines tootoo]]!) draw a veil till we next time! You don't want to peach but bejimboed if ye do! Perhelps. We ernst too may. How many months or how many years till the myriadth and first become! Bashfulness be tupped! [[May he colp, may he colp her, may he mixandmass colp her]]! Talk with a hare and you wake of a tartars. That's mus. Says the Law. List! Kicky Lacey, the pervergined, and Bianca Mutantini, her conversa, drew their fools longth finnishfurst, Herzog van Vellentam, but me and meother ravin, my coosine of mine, have mour good three chancers, weothers, after Bohnaparts. The mything smile of me, my wholesole assumption, shes nowt me- without as weam twin herewithin, that I love like myselfish, like smithereens robinsongs, like juneses nutslost, like the blue of the sky if I stoop for to spy's between my whiteyoumightcallimbs. How their duel makes their triel! Eer's wax for Sur Soord, dong- dong bollets for the iris riflers, queemswellth of coocome in their combs for the jennyjos. Caro caressimus! Honey swarns where mellisponds. Will bee all buzzy one another minnies for the mere effect that you are so fuld of pollen yourself. Teomeo! Daurdour! We feel unspeechably thoughtless over it all here in Gizzygazelle

Return to Page 238.