Felix scripsit:
> There is nothing like emacs.
'There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint,' he [the White King]
remarked to her [Alice], as he munched away.
'I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,' Alice
suggested: 'or some sal-volatile [smelling-salts, ammonium carbonate].'
'I didn't say there was nothing *better*,' the King replied. 'I said
there was nothing *like* it.' Which Alice did not venture to deny.
--Through The Looking Glass, chapter 7
--
There is no real going back. Though I John Cowan
may come to the Shire, it will not seem [email protected]
the same; for I shall not be the same. http://www.ccil.org/~cowan
I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth,
and a long burden. Where shall I find rest? --Frodo
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