Difference between revisions of "Page 487"
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think when I thought I felt a flea. I might have. I cannot say for | think when I thought I felt a flea. I might have. I cannot say for | ||
it is of no significance at all. Once or twice when I was in odin- | it is of no significance at all. Once or twice when I was in odin- | ||
| − | burgh with my addlefoes, Jake Jones, the handscabby, when I | + | burgh with my [[addlefoes]], Jake Jones, the handscabby, when I |
thinkled I wore trying on my garden substisuit, boy's apert, at | thinkled I wore trying on my garden substisuit, boy's apert, at | ||
my nexword nighboor's, and maybe more largely nor you | my nexword nighboor's, and maybe more largely nor you | ||
Revision as of 16:52, 15 August 2009
your iberborealic imagination, when it's quicker than this quack-
ing that you might, bar accidens, be very largely substituted in
potential secession from your next life by a complementary char-
acter, voices apart? Upjack! I shudder for your thought! Think!
Put from your mind that and take on trust this. The next word
depends on your answer.
— I'm thinking to, thogged be thenked! I was just trying to
think when I thought I felt a flea. I might have. I cannot say for
it is of no significance at all. Once or twice when I was in odin-
burgh with my addlefoes, Jake Jones, the handscabby, when I
thinkled I wore trying on my garden substisuit, boy's apert, at
my nexword nighboor's, and maybe more largely nor you
quosh yet you, messmate, realise. A few times, so to shape, I chanced
to be stretching, in the shadow as I thought, the liferight out
of myself in my ericulous imaginating. I felt feeling a half Scotch
and pottage like roung my middle ageing like Bewley in the
baste so that I indicate out to myself and I swear my gots how
that I'm not meself at all, no jolly fear, when I realise bimiselves
how becomingly I to be going to become.
— O, is that the way with you, you craythur? In the becom-
ing was the weared, wontnat! Hood maketh not frere. The voice
is the voice of jokeup, I fear. Are you imitation Roma now or
Amor now. You have all our empathies, eh, Mr Trickpat, if you
don't mind, that is, aside from sings and mush, answering to my
straight question?
— God save the monk! I won't mind this is, answering to
your strict crossqueets, whereas it would be as unethical for me
now to answer as it would have been nonsensical for you then
not to have asked. Same no can, home no will, gangin I am.
Gangang is Mine and I will return. Out of my name you call me,
Leelander. But in my shelter you'll miss me. When Lapac walks
backwords he's darkest horse in Capalisoot. You knew me once
but you won't know me twice. I am simpliciter arduus, ars of
the schoo, Freeday's child in loving and thieving.
— My child, know this! Some portion of that answer appears
to have been token by you from the writings of Saint Synodius,
