In Memoriam - Quote Graveyard

[Bêthberry]

This was was quickly scared away by the seasonal ghosties and ghoulies.

Originally Posted by Terry Pratchett

I once absentmindedly ordered Three Mile Island dressing in a restaurant, and with great presence of mind they brought Thousand Island Dressing and a bottle of chili sauce.

[Mithadan]

I've had this sig for many years. Time to change it, at least temporarily.

"And tales and rumours arose along the shores of the sea concerning mariners and men forlorn upon the water who, by some fate or grace or favour of the Valar, had entered in upon the Straight Way and seen the face of the world sink below them..."

[Bêthberry]

Chris Van Allsburg provided an ominous seasonal offering:

She lowered the knife and it grew even brighter.

Another seasonal thought:

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there's pansies, that's for thoughts.

[Rimbaud]

Really excellent quotes recently, Bethberry.

I have altered the wording of mine, as reading a better translation of Art Poetique provided a better fit with the original.

[The Elf-warrior]

I am retiring my Animal Crackers quote for this:

Originally Posted by Hookbill the Goomba

"Killing the Barrow Wight won't solve anything!"

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by Rimbaud

Really excellent quotes recently, Bethberry.

Thanks, Rimsy. Yours ain't so bad either.

And now the season of remembrance has passed and so goes

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember, and there's pansies, that's for thoughts.

To be replaced by more seasonal faire, for which I offer a fuller quotation here than the stingy signature limit allows.

Originally Posted by Dylan Thomas

It was on the afternoon of the day of Christmas Eve, and I was in Mrs. Prothero's garden, waiting for cats, with her son Jim. It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, although there were no reindeers. But there were cats. Patient, cold and callous, our hands wrapped in socks, we waited to snowball the cats. Sleek and long as jaguars and horrible-whiskered, spitting and snarling, they would slide and sidle over the white back-garden walls, and the lynx-eyed hunters, Jim and I, fur-capped and moccasined trappers from Hudson Bay, off Mumbles Road, would hurl our deadly snowballs at the green of their eyes. A Child's Christmas in Wales

There now! There's cats and Christmas and Canada all rolled into one.

[Bêthberry]

Well now, it appears I am single-handedly keeping this thread alive. Go me.

Adieu to the seasonal one from Dylan Thomas:

It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, although there were no reindeers. But there were cats. A Child's Christmas in Wales

And hello to something for the new year, which, for a change of pace, contains nothing about cats:

as intimate -- as fugitive
As Sunset on the snow --