"[w]hat was any art but ... a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose." - Willa Cather, Song of the Lark
Friday, August 07, 2009
The FG posted this on the FB, and I think I woke up the neighbor's dog from its nap with my laughter. HILARIOUS.