Gentle Sir Philip Sidney, thou knew'st what belong'd to a scholler; thou knew'st what pains, what toil, what travail conduct to perfection.
8.01.2006
Is it too late to crawl back into bed?
You know how sometimes you can just feel a black mood getting ready to jump out and take a lead pipe to your knee? Well, that's what's happening around here. A situation not helped at all, I might add, by the items on my Google homepage this morning:
"I am grown at length to see into the vanity of the world more than ever I did, and now I condemn myself for nothing so much as playing the dolt in print . . . . There is nothing that if a man list he may not wrest or pervert. I cannot forbid any to think villainously, Sed caveat emptor, let the interpreter beware; for none ever heard me make allegories of an idle text."
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