That and the fact that your location says New Zealand.Damn, I thought I was doing a good job of being an enigma. Yous got me at petrol, didn't ya?
Contd. Ellipsis
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- Great Grand Panjandrum
- Posts: 4427
- Joined: Fri Oct 09, 2009 6:16 pm
- Location: Land of the Flat Water
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- Great Grand Panjandrum
- Posts: 4427
- Joined: Fri Oct 09, 2009 6:16 pm
- Location: Land of the Flat Water
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- Great Grand Panjandrum
- Posts: 4427
- Joined: Fri Oct 09, 2009 6:16 pm
- Location: Land of the Flat Water
-
- Great Grand Panjandrum
- Posts: 4427
- Joined: Fri Oct 09, 2009 6:16 pm
- Location: Land of the Flat Water
-
- Great Grand Panjandrum
- Posts: 4427
- Joined: Fri Oct 09, 2009 6:16 pm
- Location: Land of the Flat Water
i no stuf i fink.(A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.)
Well, at least most of us here are safe.
Must I take cover?
Last edited by Enigma on Tue Feb 09, 2010 9:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
What you see, yet can not see over, is as good as infinite. ~Thomas Carlyle
I mean not to throw anyone for a loop.Okay, lost me on this one. The "stuf" throws me for a loop.i no stuf i fink.
I mean only to use light-hearted--though admittedly rather dry--humour so as to prevent the impending death of the thread.
If you like, we could have Sap or Luke write in Old English to liven up the posts
What you see, yet can not see over, is as good as infinite. ~Thomas Carlyle
How about a little John Milton? It's not Old English, but it's old.
On His Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.
On His Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.
Ars longa, vita brevis
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