2003.08.25
Let us not to the marriage of people who know what they want
Admit impediments. Love doesn't vary
Like you might change your hair style from pixie to bouffant
Or throw away your swimsuit in January.
Oh no, it is an ever fixéd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.
It laughs at death and gooses statues in the park
And loves a cheeseburger with extra bacon.
Love's not time's fool though rosy lips and cheeks
Get all wrinkly and veiny and saggy and gnarly.
Love alters not with its brief hours and weeks
So don't give up on it, Charley.
If this be a big mistake and we wind up hissing and snarling
There is nobody I'd rather be wrong with than you, my darling.
Literary Passage of the Moment
Roo sighed.
"Imagine a man is running along the street," he said.
"What?" Tracey pulled a face at him.
"Imagine a man running along the street."
"Um, okay."
"He's racing away, desperate to catch a bus that he sees is two hundred yards ahead of him, its indicator already flashing to pull out."
"Right."
"The man sprints towards it for all he's worth--arms waving, loose change flying out of his pockets."
"Yes."
"But while he's still a good hundred and fifty yards away, he stumbles over a small dog--a Yorkshire terrier, perhaps--that disinterestedly crosses his path. He falls. Spinning awkwardly onto the pavement in the cruel oasis created by other pedestrians leaping out of the way. Failure. Wasted effort. A jagged rip in the elbow of his jacket where it's hit the ground. Ahead, unknowing, the bus pulls away and he's missed it."
"Uh-huh."
"Now, instead of a man, imagine it's you, and instead of a bus it's 'The Point.'"
"Cheers for that. It's certainly cleared up a few worries I was having. Also, you're a twat."
Link of the Moment
Things overheard on the London Underground...or not, the top of the page implies they may all be made up. Still some very cool reading.