response 1 of 161:

Mar 21 19:37 UTC 1997

I am currently "it", by virtue of having guessed that remmers's last quote
was from Virginia Woolf.  Here's a new quote:

I followed rapidly until, darkness shutting down, I was forced to await the 
rising of the moon, and given an opportunity to speculate on the question of 
the wisdom of my chase.  Possibly I had conjured up impossible dangers, like 
some nervous old housewife, and when I should catch up with Powell would get a 
good laugh for my pains.  However, I am not prone to sensitivenes, and the 
following of a sense of duty, wherever it may lead, has always been a kind of 
fetich with me throughout my life; which may account for the honors bestowed 
upon me by three republics and the decorations and friendships of an old and 
powerful emperor and several lesser kings, in whose service my sword has been 
red many a time.

response 5 of 161:

Mar 26 20:00 UTC 1997

Well, i hasn't been on since he guessed the quote.  I sent him mail at the
address in his .plan (on netmeg), but he hasn't been on there either.  I'm
not sure when to put the quote up fo grabs.

response 7 of 161:

Mar 26 22:05 UTC 1997

Oh, dear.  I should have known better than to guess right before heading 
out of town.  (For the record - I've read all 11 books of ERB's Barsoom
series, and still own (& have re-read a couple times) all but the final 
(vastly lower quality) book.  Yet I neither recognized the quote nor
guessed that it was from that series - I thought I recognized ERB's style
and recalled seeing the anniversary of his death on Meg's calandar for the
prior week.  Anyway, I'd recommend the series ("A Princess of Mars" is the
first) to anyone interested in classic early-20th-century light romantic 
(both senses) adventure fiction.)


This is taken from a speech at a Royal Academy dinner in 1906.  (I own
a collection containing it, but am uncertain of it's publication history.) 

   "A great, and I frankly admit, a somewhat terrifying, honour has come to
me; but I think, compliments apart, that the most case-hardened worker in
letters, speaking to such an assembly as this, must recognise the gulf that
seperates even the least of those who do things worthy to be written about
from even the best of those who have written things worthy of being talked
about.
   "There is an ancient legend which tells us that when a man first 
achieved a most notable deed he wished to explain to his Tribe what he had
done.  As soon as he began to speak, however, he was smitten with dumbness,
he lacked words, and sat down.  Then there arose - according to the story -
a masterless man, one who had taken no part in the action of the fellow,
who had no special virtues, but was afflicted - that is the phrase - with
the magic of the necessary word.  He saw; he told; he described the merits
of the notable deed in such a fashion, we are assured, the the words 
'became alive and walked up and down in the hearts of all his hearers'.
Thereupon, the Tribe seeing that the words were certainly alive, and
fearing lest the man with the words would hand down untrue tales about them
to their children, took and killed him.  But, later, they saw that the magic
was in the words, not in the man.
   "We have progressed in many directions since the time of this early and
destructive criticism, but, so far, we do not seem to have found a sufficient
substitute for the necessary word as the final record to which all
achievements must look.  Even to-day, when all is done, those who have done
it must wait until all has been said by the masterless man with the words."

The author is best known for fiction.

(Yes, I'll be around to judge guesses, give hints, etc.)

response 9 of 161:

Mar 27 02:59 UTC 1997

Not HGW.  Certainly very British, though.  And, like Wells, this author is
(roughly) better known for earlier works.

response 11 of 161:

Mar 27 09:29 UTC 1997

   c.s. lewis? (shot in the semi-dark)

response 13 of 161:

Mar 28 00:08 UTC 1997

Not CPS, CSL, or JRRT.  This author lacked the scientific orientation (real
or fancied) of Wells, Snow, and Lewis, and certainly did not share the 
latter's enthusiasm for Christianity.  Yet this author had no fixed, 
synchronized vision of the world from which (s)he refused to stray:


                        Recessional

        God of our fathers, known of old,
          Lord of our far-flung battle-line,
        Beneath whose awful Hand we hold
          Dominion over palm and pine -
        Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
        Lest we forget - lest we forget!

        The tumult and the shouting dies;
          The Captains and the Kings depart:
        Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
          An humble and a contrite heart.
        Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
        Lest we forget - lest we forget!

        Far-called, our navies melt away;
          On dune and headland sink the fire:
        Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
          Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
        Judge of Nations, spare us yet,
        Lest we forget - lest we forget!

        If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
          Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
        Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
          Or lesser breeds without the Law-
        Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
        Lest we forget - lest we forget!

        For heathen heart that puts her trust
          In reeking tube and iron shard,
        All valient dust that builds on dust,
          And guarding, calls not Thee to guard.
        For frantic boast and foolish word -
        Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!  

                                                1897


Many of this author's views were sharply criticised. 

response 15 of 161:

Mar 28 00:58 UTC 1997

Ye gads, I'm definitely familiar with that poem. As to the
author...

    <remmers pauses to consult references>

Why, of course! It's Rudyard Kipling.

response 17 of 161:

Mar 28 14:27 UTC 1997

<i passes the ethereal Grex Mystery Quote Item baton to remmers>

response 19 of 161:

Mar 29 16:10 UTC 1997

Ok, guess I've got the quote. Lemme think here...

Here's some more poetry, of a sort:

                There's a man with a Nose,
                And wherever he goes
            The people run from him and shout:
                "No cotton have we
                For our ears if so be
            He blow that interminous snout!"

                So the lawyers applied
                For injunction. "Denied,"
            Said the Judge: "the defendant prefixion,
                Whate'er it portend,
                Appears to transcend
            The bounds of this court's jurisdiction."

response 21 of 161:

Mar 30 07:19 UTC 1997

Bennet Cerf?

response 23 of 161:

Mar 30 15:57 UTC 1997

 Cool. I'll post something forthwith. I was gonna say Ogden Nash, but it did
sound a bit on the bitter side, and after having read "The Devil's Dictionary"
it sounded just like something Bierce would say.