[The barge has been a complete fucking shitshow. You are like a cross between Rudyard Kipling and a troll, Loki, but you are not currently being a shitshow.
You look really pleased with yourself. Did you dress in drag and trick some giants out of Mjolnir or are you just happy to see him?
...He comes back after a while with his own book. Brood with him, Loki. Stop smiling. ]
Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind. --But to what purpose Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves I do not know. --Other echoes Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Some of the poetic sagas Sigrun read for me, they had this recurring device where it'd stop on a cliffhanger and go: "would you know more? Would you yet know more?" Always reminded me of the beginning of Burnt Norton.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-09-11 03:34 am (UTC)You look really pleased with yourself. Did you dress in drag and trick some giants out of Mjolnir or are you just happy to see him?
...He comes back after a while with his own book. Brood with him, Loki. Stop smiling. ]
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
--But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
--Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Some of the poetic sagas Sigrun read for me, they had this recurring device where it'd stop on a cliffhanger and go: "would you know more? Would you yet know more?" Always reminded me of the beginning of Burnt Norton.