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The Tomb of Horrors: Somewhere under a lost and lonely hill of grim and foreboding aspect lies a labyrinthine crypt. It is filled with terrible traps and not a few strange and ferocious monsters to slay the unwary. It is filled with rich treasures both precious and magical, but in addition to the aforementioned guardians, there is said to be a demi-lich who still wards his final haunt. (Be warned that tales told have it that this being possesses powers which make him nearly undefeatable!) Accounts relate that it is quite unlikely that any adventurers will ever find the chamber where the demilich Acererak lingers, for the passages and rooms of the Tomb are fraught with terrible traps, poison gases, and magical protections. Furthermore, the demi-lich has so well hidden his lair, that even those who avoid the pitfalls will not be likely to locate their true goal. So only large and well-prepared parties of the bravest and strongest should even consider the attempt, and if they do locate the Tomb, they must be prepared to fail. Any expedition must be composed of characters of high level and varied class. They must have magical protections and weapons, and equip themselves with every sort of device possible to insure their survival.

-- AD&D Adventure Module S1: Tomb of Horrors (copyright 1978, 1981, TSR, Inc.), page 4

Je suis comme le roi d'un pays pluvieux,
Riche, mais impuissant, jeune et pourtant très vieux
(Baudelaire, Spleen)

How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it too when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists; its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you.

Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

'Forgive me, Azazello, for meeting you naked like this.'

Azazello begged her not to let it worry her, assuring Margarita that he had not only seen plenty of naked women in his time but even women who had been skinned alive.

.
Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

And did you find - as I did - how curious, as well as very natural, it was that we should be so shy with each other, when in a papery way we knew each other so much better? I feel I have always known you, and yet I search for polite phrases and conventional enquiries - you are more mysterious in your presence (as I suppose most of us may be) than you seem to be in ink and scribbled symbols.


AS Byatt, Possession, 1990.
I love the phrase "in a papery way"

Another Possession quote (thanks, Isabella).
I just adore the few lines given from this fictional poem by a fictional Victorian author:

“We two remake our world by naming it
Together, knowing what words mean for us
And for the other for whom current coin
Is cold speech--but we say, the tree, the pool,
And see the fire in the air, the sun, our sun,
Anybody's sun, the world's sun, but here, now
Particularly our sun....”

" If I never meet you in this life, let me feel the lack" James Jones - The Thin Red Line

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"

Graham's Magazine, July 1848 in review of Wuthering Heights:

How a human being could have attempted such a book as the present without committing suicide before he had finished a dozen chapters, is a mystery. It is a compound of vulgar depravity and unnatural horrors, such as we might suppose a person, inspired by a mixture of brandy and gunpowder, might write for the edification of fifth-rate blackguards.


Be still, my heart ...

When a book gets this sort of vituperative response, you know it's a good book!

You know it will garner attention. You know it will transcend ages.

Despite all which Anne did, Wuthering Heights stood the test of time.

Of course....Charlotte!

They are abstract and bodiless. Their love is feline; it is tigerish … Their actions and sayings are like those of monomaniacs, or persons who have breathed nitrous oxide. One looks back at the story as to a world of brilliant figures in an atmosphere of mist; shapes that burn their colours into the brain, and depart into enveloping fog. This novel is the unformed writing of a giant’s hand; the large utterance of a baby god.

Allott, Miriam (ed). The Brontës: The Critical Heritage. London: Routledge, 1974.

Stikky was not an excellent spacer.  He had been up and down the rank ladder several times: promoted because time had passed; demoted because he overslept or failed an inspection.  He was, however, an excellent computer tech.  He intuitively understood the workings of the Navy's information systems better than any of the officers, indeed, better than anyone on the ship.  It was Stikky to whom the other ratings turned when connections failed, or new installations balked, or old devices slowed.  More than once, another rating got the credit and a promotion based on something Stikky did.

Yet in all of this, Stikky was content.  He enjoyed what he did; he had a continuing parade of devices to puzzle through, install, and confirm as operational.  As section officers cycled in, each tried to rehabilitate Stikky as a spacer, soon found that the network suffered, and so learned to leave Stikky alone.

Stikky was the butt of good-natured derision, which he ignored, or didn't notice.  It was always good-natured because the network suffered if it wasn't.  Today's ribbing was somehow different.

"Stikky!  The Captain wants to see you!"

"You're in trouble now!  Did you let his link crash?"

Stikky was immune to their comments and ignored them, until the Lieutenant touched his shoulder firmly, and said, "Stand up.  Let's see you.  Your tunic has a spot; let's get it changed.  The Captain wants you on the bridge."

It took longer than he expected and the Lieutenant was starting to get nervous.

-- Agent of the Imperium, Copyright © 2015 by Marc Miller