Wednesday, 16 November 2011
rock for beating breast with
rocher de bronze
Sinnbild unerschütterlicher Festigkeit,
Thoreau - 26 Jan 1858
Some men have a peculiar taste for bad words, mouthing and licking them into lumpish shapes like the bear her cubs,—words like “tribal” and “ornamentation,” which drag a dead tail after them. They will pick you out of a thousand the still-born words, the falsettos, the wing-clipped and lame words, as if only the false notes caught their ears. They cry encore to all the discords
Labels:
bole,
rock,
St. Jerome,
thoreau,
words
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