‘ on my honour.’
‘On your honour as a drunken rowdy thief?’ said Tiffany.
Rob Anybody beamed. ‘Aye!’ he said. ‘An’ I got a lot of good big reputation to protect there!’
Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.
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It became apparent that one reason why the Ice Giants were known as the Ice Giants was because they were, well, giants. The other was that they were made of ice.
- — (Terry Pratchett, Sourcery)
Son to Mum
My boots are made for sleeping
I’ll never take them off again.
My feet are made for keeping
Those leathery brown boots.
My heart is made for boots
They are the world to me
& if you take them off me Mum
I’ll scream the whole house down.
My boots they sing me songs
As the crackle in the night
My heart is made for weeping
For my hand-me-down brown boots.
“Don’t you find it odd,” she continued, “that when you’re a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you’re older, somehow they act offended if you even try.”
― Ethan Hawke, The Hottest State