Sunday, July 24, 2011

On the road

Your humble scribe won't be around much til Monday evening earliest. Got trips to make and horizons to stare upon. We leave you in the capable hands of Jack:
"Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child, believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome, grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life."
And this, too: