from January 26, 2001 (quoting myself):
I've been reading Marlowe lately. Great stuff. Nobody could begin a
story like him:
For long and weary hours, I bored myself
Counting the old, tired webs of spiders
In my narrow office. Just then I heard
A ringing sound from the bell out front,
And in my dismal garrett I beheld
A wench who made a good first impression
To my eyes. Her face, I thought could launch,
A thousand or so ships, her eyes burn down
A hell of a lot of topless towers.
I took in her form and her tear-streaked face
She beseechingly asked, "Mister Marlowe?
I'm in trouble. They told me you could help."
(Christopher Marlowe, _The Tragedy of The Big Slumber_, act I)
(This is on the web in a couple of places, but it seemed advisable to put it somewhere I could reliably point to it as needed.)
me and some pals
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