Sunday, July 11, 2010

We Bare Our Necks, Mayhap They will not Cut our Throats




little slumber, a little sleep, a little folding of the hands to rest, began the Preacher, a little forgetting, a little relenting, continueth the blogger.

2. A little lie, told here, to thine own self alone, and there, to another not far yonder. A lie that is sweet, and goeth into the marrow, completely.

3. Soon, thou wilt be insensible as Prince Charles if thou but relentest, just a little.


4. And ripe for slaughter.