61
" Gundar, seeing Halt upright for the first time in two days, stumped up the deck to join them.
'Back on your feet then?' he boomed cheerfully, with typical Skandian tact. 'By Gorlag's toenails, with all the heaving abd puking you've been doing, I thought you'd turn yourself inside out and puke yourself over the rail!'...
'You do paint a pretty picture, Gundar,' Will said...
'Thank you for your concern,' Halt said icily...
'So, did you find Albert?' Gundar went on, unabashed. Even Halt was puzzled by this sudden apparent change of subject.
'Albert?' he asked. Too late, he saw Gundar's grin widening and knew he'd stepped into a trap.
'You seemed to be looking for him. You'd lean over the rail and call, 'Al-b-e-e-e-e-e-r-t!' I thought he might be some Araluen sea god.'
'No, I didn't find him. Maybe I could look for him in your helmet.'
He reached out a hand. But Gundar had heard what happened when Skandians lent their helmets to the grim-faced Ranger while onboard ship...
'No, I'm pretty sure he's not there,' he said hurriedly. "
― John Flanagan , The Emperor of Nihon-Ja (Ranger's Apprentice, #10)
62
" Will had been taken aback in his confrontation with Arisaka to discover that his name- Chocho- meant " Butterfly" ... He was puzzled to know why they had selected it. His friends, of course, delighted in helping him guess the reason.'I assume it's because you're such a snazzy dresser,' Evanlyn said. 'You Rangers are a riot of color, after all.'...'I think it might be more to do with the way he raced around the training ground, darting here and there to correct the way a man might be holding his shield, then dashing off to show someone how to put their body weight into their javelin cast,' said Horace, a little more sympathetically. Then he ruined the effect by adding thoughtlessly, 'I must say, your cloak did flutter around like a butterfly's wings. "
63
" When an entire world had abandoned us, or at least while we felt like that, and even when nasty ogres killed my monk and Arnd's chevalier the brutal way, gathering to be a group of heroes & heroines gave us the recovery and idealism to live-on nonetheless.
I had hate, contempt, puzzled looks, and sometimes even understanding for those mainstreamers who knew nothing but sex about adulthood. As I have the roots of a European Barbarian who shared his tales at the campfire (old way of books) PLUS knowing that the intimicy of a mature relationship can be spoiled by sex, but it can never be built and maintained by sex alone...
Nah, much to contemplative and honest. Let's link-in some light-hearted fun:
Mikey Mason, over at youtube dot come has the songs 'Best Game Ever, and Summer of 83'... "
― Andrè M. Pietroschek
64
" When an entire world had abandoned us, or at least while we felt like that, and even when nasty ogres killed my monk and Arnd's chevalier the brutal way, gathering to be a group of heroes & heroines gave us the recovery and idealism to live-on nonetheless.
I had hate, contempt, puzzled looks, and sometimes even understanding for those mainstreamers who knew nothing but sex about adulthood. As I have the roots of a European Barbarian who shared his tales at the campfire (old way of books) PLUS knowing that the intimacy of a mature relationship can be spoiled by sex, but it can never be built and maintained by sex alone...
Nah, much to contemplative and honest. Let's link-in some light-hearted fun:
Mikey Mason, over at youtube dot com has the songs 'Best Game Ever, and Summer of 83'... "
― , Attempted Poetry
66
" Suddenly an unexpected series of sounds began to be heard in this place up against the starry sky. They were the notes of Oak´s flute. It came from the direction of a small dark object under the hedge - a shephard´s hut - now presenting an outline to which an unintiated person might have been puzzled to attach either meaning or use. ... Being a man not without a frequent consciousness that there was some charm in this life he led, he stood still after looking at the sky as a useful instrument, and regarded it in an appreciative spirit, as a work of art superlatively beautiful. For a moment he seemed impressed with the speaking loneliness of the scene, or rather with the complete abstraction from all its compass of the sights and sounds of man. ... Oak´s motions, though they had a quiet energy, were slow, and their deliberateness accorded well with his occupation. Fitness being the basis of beauty, nobody could have denied tha his steady swings and turns in and about the flock had elements of grace. His special power, morally, physically, and mentally, was static. ... Oak was an intensely human man: indee, his humanity tore in pieces any politic intentions of his which bordered on strategy, and carried him on as by gravitation. A shadow in his life had always been that his flock should end in mutton - that a day could find a shepherd an arrant traitor to his gentle sheep. "
― Thomas Hardy , Far From the Madding Crowd
67
" Do you wanna go out for lunch? In celebration?” I asked
and then touched my lips in thought. “Or we could swing by the store
and get something really good for dinner?”
Wesley glanced at me sideways with a puzzled expression I
couldn’t figure out. He looked back at the road. “Maybe later,” he said, chewing on his thumbnail.
“Why? Since we’re out, we might as well stop….”
“We can’t right now. There are things I have to do first,” he said,
looking at me with a grin.
“What?” I asked, innocently walking into his trap, though I
should’ve known better by now.
“Like take you home and fuck you up, down, and sideways,” he
answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "
― , Wes and Toren