|Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English)||by Linux fortune|
|People seem to think that the blanket phrase, "I only work here," absolves|
them utterly from any moral obligation in terms of the public -- but this
was precisely Eichmann's excuse for his job in the concentration camps.
|One good turn usually gets most of the blanket.|
|A gangster assembled an engineer, a chemist, and a physicist. He explained|
that he was entering a horse in a race the following week and the three
assembled guys had the job of assuring that the gangster's horse would win.
They were to reconvene the day before the race to tell the gangster how they
each propose to ensure a win. When they reconvened the gangster started with
Gangster: OK, Mr. engineer, what have you got?
Engineer: Well, I've invented a way to weave metallic threads into the saddle
blanket so that they will act as the plates of a battery and provide
electrical shock to the horse.
G: That's very good! But let's hear from the chemist.
Chemist: I've synthesized a powerful stimulant that disolves
into simple blood sugars after ten minutes and therefore
cannot be detected in post-race tests.
G: Excellent, excellent! But I want to hear from the physicist before
I decide what to do. Physicist?
Physicist: Well, first consider a spherical horse in simple harmonic motion...
|Come, you spirits|
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse
That no compunctious visiting of nature
Shake my fell purpose, not keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall the in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry `Hold, hold!'
-- Lady MacBeth
|When my fist clenches crack it open,|
Before I use it and lose my cool.
When I smile tell me some bad news,
Before I laugh and act like a fool.
And if I swallow anything evil,
Put you finger down my throat.
And if I shiver please give me a blanket,
Keep me warm let me wear your coat
No one knows what it's like to be the bad man,
to be the sad man.
Behind blue eyes.
No one knows what its like to be hated,
to be fated,
To telling only lies.
-- The Who
|We have the flu. I don't know if this particular strain has an official|
name, but if it does, it must be something like "Martian Death Flu". You
may have had it yourself. The main symptom is that you wish you had another
setting on your electric blanket, up past "HIGH", that said "ELECTROCUTION".
Another symptom is that you cease brushing your teeth, because (a)
your teeth hurt, and (b) you lack the strength. Midway through the brushing
process, you'd have to lie down in front of the sink to rest for a couple
of hours, and rivulets of toothpaste foam would dribble sideways out of your
mouth, eventually hardening into crusty little toothpaste stalagmites that
would bond your head permanently to the bathroom floor, which is how the
police would find you.
You know the kind of flu I'm talking about.
-- Dave Barry, "Molecular Homicide"