Another piece of advice: when you proofread cross out as many adjectives and adverbs as you can. You have so many modifiers that the reader has trouble understanding and gets worn out. It is comprehensible when I write: The man sat on the grass, because it is clear and does not detain one's attention. On the other hand, it is difficult to figure out and hard on the brain if I write: The tall, narrow-chested man of medium height and with a red beard sat down on the green grass that had already been trampled down by the pedestrians, sat down silently, looking around timidly and fearfully. The brain can't grasp all that at once, and art must be grasped at once, instantaneously. And then one other thing; you are lyrical by nature. The timber of your soul is soft. If you were a composer you would avoid writing marches. It is unnatural for your talent to curse, shout, taunt, denounce with rage. Therefore, you'll understand if I advise you, in proofreading, to eliminate the sons of bitches, curs, and flea-bitten mutts that appear here and there on the pages of Life.
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Honest winter, snow clad and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; but that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping loom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honor of May -- how often has it robbed me of heart and hope.
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When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers.
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Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?
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I couldn't tell fact from fiction,
Or if the dream was true
My only sure prediction
In this world was you.
I'd touch your features inchly
Beard love and dared the cost,
The sented spiel reeled me unreal
And I found my senses lost.
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Don't point that beard at me, it might go off.
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I am convinced that the world is not a mere bog in which men and women trample themselves in the mire and die. Something magnificent is taking place here amid the cruelties and tragedies, and the supreme challenge to intelligence is that of making the noblest and best in our curious heritage prevail.
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If we didn't live venturously, plucking the wild goat by the beard, and trembling over precipices, we should never be depressed, I've no doubt but already should be faded, fatalistic and aged.
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If the scissors are not used daily on the beard, it will not be long before the beard is, by its luxuriant growth, pretending to be the head.
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The best way to get yourself a reputation as a dangerous citizen is to go about repeating the very phrases which our founding fathers used in the struggle for independence.
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If a man suddenly appears before me with a big beard and locks and the works, and performed this huge fucking miracle and said to me 'I am God,' I'd say, 'Fuck man, I didn't believe in ya but ok, you got me.' But until that day he can fuck right off.
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You need only reflect that one of the best ways to get yourself a reputation as a dangerous citizen these days is to go about repeating the very phrases which our founding fathers used in the struggle for independence.
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The lessons of history? There are four: The bee fertilizes the flower it robs; whom the gods would destroy they first make mad with power; the mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small; when it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
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Seize opportunity by the beard, for it is bald behind.
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Is that a beard, or are you eating a muskrat?
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Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.
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Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.
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Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woolen.
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Tongue: a variety of meat, rarely served because it clearly crosses the line between a cut of beef and a piece of dead cow.
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A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart who looks at her watch.
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He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.
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Food is our common ground, a universal experience.
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A beard signifies lice, not brains.
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