What you haven't become . . .


How it has changed you, you will never know.

You mean, she is her own person!!! *sigh*...

"...take our dreams and turn them into ash... "

(Did I say that out loud?)

Er...what I meant to say...

What was on my had been hoping...

Never mind what was on my mind!

All the same, insofar as Dennis is concerned, I say somebody's better check the back of his neck--just to make sure.

Who knows what might have been lurking aboard Air Force One on that fateful day.


  1. At their first meeting, Elizabeth looked into his eyes and quote Hindu scripture. Good Goddess, who could resist that?

    But dare he eat a peach?

  2. And indeed there will be time
    To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
    Time to turn back and descend the stair,
    With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
    [They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
    My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
    My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
    [They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
    Do I dare
    Disturb the universe?
    In a minute there is time
    For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

  3. (...)

    No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
    Am an attendant lord, one that will do
    To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
    Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
    Deferential, glad to be of use,
    Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
    Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
    At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
    Almost, at times, the Fool.

    I grow old … I grow old …
    I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

    Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
    I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
    I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

    I do not think that they will sing to me.

    I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
    Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
    When the wind blows the water white and black.

    We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
    By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
    Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

    ~ T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock