|Proverbs, aphorisms, quotations (English)||by Linux fortune|
|An Hacker there was, one of the finest sort|
Who controlled the system; graphics was his sport.
A manly man, to be a wizard able;
Many a protected file he had sitting on his table.
His console, when he typed, a man might hear
Clicking and feeping wind as clear,
Aye, and as loud as does the machine room bell
Where my lord Hacker was Prior of the cell.
The Rule of good St Savage or St Doeppnor
As old and strict he tended to ignore;
He let go by the things of yesterday
And took the modern world's more spacious way.
He did not rate that text as a plucked hen
Which says that Hackers are not holy men.
And that a hacker underworked is a mere
Fish out of water, flapping on the pier.
That is to say, a hacker out of his cloister.
That was a text he held not worth an oyster.
And I agreed and said his views were sound;
Was he to study till his head wend round
Poring over books in the cloisters? Must he toil
As Andy bade and till the very soil?
Was he to leave the world upon the shelf?
Let Andy have his labor to himself!
[well, almost. Ed.]
|Please stand for the National Anthem:|
Australians all, let us rejoice,
For we are young and free.
We've golden soil and wealth for toil
Our home is girt by sea.
Our land abounds in nature's gifts
Of beauty rich and rare.
In history's page, let every stage
Advance Australia Fair.
In joyful strains then let us sing,
Advance Australia Fair.
Thank you. You may resume your seat.
|Too much radiation coming from the soil.|
|I have stripped off my dress; must I put it on again? I have washed my feet;|
must I soil them again?
When my beloved slipped his hand through the latch-hole, my bowels stirred
within me [my bowels were moved for him (KJV)].
When I arose to open for my beloved, my hands dripped with myrrh; the liquid
myrrh from my fingers ran over the knobs of the bolt. With my own hands I
opened to my love, but my love had turned away and gone by; my heart sank when
he turned his back. I sought him but I did not find him, I called him but he
did not answer.
The watchmen, going the rounds of the city, met me; they struck me and
wounded me; the watchmen on the walls took away my cloak.
[Song of Solomon 5:3-7 (NEB)]
|"Ignorance is the soil in which belief in miracles grows."|
-- Robert G. Ingersoll
|You will step on the night soil of many countries.|
|Your step will soil many countries.|