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Grex > Books > #69: the Spring Mystery Quote item.. | |
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| Author |
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mcnally
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the Spring Mystery Quote item..
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Mar 23 06:35 UTC 1998 |
It's yet another "Mystery Quote" item, just in time for Spring Agora.
The name of the game is "Guess the Famous Author" and the rules are
simple: the last correct guesser enters a quote from a work of prose,
poetry, fiction, or non-fiction (pretty wide-open, eh?) and anyone who
wishes may attempt to guess the identity of the author based on clues
gleaned from the passage. The reward for a correct guess is the
privilege of posting the next quote..
If the quote proves to be too obscure, the poster is encouraged to
provide minor clues or an additional passage from the work of the same
writer until someone manages a correct guess.
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| 222 responses total. |
mcnally
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response 1 of 222:
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Mar 23 06:35 UTC 1998 |
<book cf fairwitnesses, please link to books..>
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mcnally
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response 2 of 222:
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Mar 23 06:39 UTC 1998 |
Picking up where we left off in the Winter Agora conference, this was
the last quote (provided by yours truly..)
- "Well, Master Cap, is it not a beautiful sheet, and fit to
- be named a sea?"
-
- "This, then, is what you call your lake?" demanded Cap,
- sweeping the northern horizon with his pipe. "I say, is this,
- really, your lake?"
-
- "Sartain, and if the judgment of one who has lived on the
- shores of many others can be taken, a very good lake it is."
-
- "Just as I expected! A pond in dimensions, and a scuttle-butt
- in taste. It is all in vain to travel inland, in the hope of
- seeing anything either full-grown or useful. I knew it would
- turn out in just this way."
-
- "What is the matter with Ontario, Master Cap? It is large, and
- fair to look at, and pleasant enough to drink, for those who
- can't get at the water of the springs."
-
- "Do you call this large?" asked Cap, again sweeping the air with
- the pipe. "I will just ask you what there is large about it.
- Didn't Jasper himself confess that it was only some twenty leagues
- from shore to shore?"
-
- "But uncle," interposed Mabel, "no land is to be seen, except
- here on our own coast. To me it looks exactly like the ocean."
-
- "This bit of a pond look like the ocean! Well, Magnet, that
- from a girl who has had real seamen in her family is downright
- nonsense. What is there about it, pray, that has even the
- outline of a sea on it?"
-
- "Why, there is water -- water -- water; nothing but water for
- miles on miles, far as the eye can see."
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mcnally
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response 3 of 222:
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Mar 23 06:41 UTC 1998 |
Guessed so far (all incorrect, of course..)
Mark Twain
Pierre Marquette
Finley Peter Dunne
Since we aren't getting many guessers and guessing seems to have stalled,
I'll add more info in just a bit..
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md
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response 4 of 222:
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Mar 23 11:50 UTC 1998 |
Fenimore Cooper?
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polygon
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response 5 of 222:
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Mar 23 17:11 UTC 1998 |
Jack London?
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maeve
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response 6 of 222:
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Mar 23 17:59 UTC 1998 |
it sounds like Cooper, but then I"m unfavourably biased..
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mcnally
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response 7 of 222:
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Mar 23 18:37 UTC 1998 |
It is indeed, James Fenimore Cooper, from the novel "The Pathfinder",
one of his Leatherstocking Tales (of which the most famous, "The Last
of the Mohicans", is undoubtedly familiar to most Grexers..)
MD's up..
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md
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response 8 of 222:
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Mar 23 23:26 UTC 1998 |
Here's my quote:
"'Eventually, computers and robots will run things. Humans
will manage those machines, but that doesn't require courage or
strength, or any characteristics like those. In fact, men are
outliving their usefulness. All you need are sperm banks to keep
the species going, and those are coming along now. Most men are
rotten lovers, women say, so there's not much loss in replacing
sex with science.
'We're giving up free range, getting organized, feathering our
emotions. Efficiency and effectiveness and all those other pieces
of intellectual artifice. And with the loss of free range, the
cowboy disappears, along with the mountain lion and gray wolf.
There's not much room left for travelers.
'I'm one of the last cowboys. My job gives me free range of a
sort. As much as you can find nowadays. I'm not sad about it.
Maybe a little wistful, I guess. But it's got to happen, it's
the only way we'll keep from destroying ourselves. My contention
is that male hormones are the ultimate cause of trouble on this
planet.'"
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raven
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response 9 of 222:
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Mar 24 02:55 UTC 1998 |
Gary Snyder?
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aruba
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response 10 of 222:
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Mar 24 06:41 UTC 1998 |
Oh hell, I've read that. Is it Jack Chalker?
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mcnally
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response 11 of 222:
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Mar 24 07:12 UTC 1998 |
unlikely..
it seems quite familiar to me, too, though I can't conclude whether
it's actually something I've read or just *seems* like something I've
read..
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md
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response 12 of 222:
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Mar 24 11:07 UTC 1998 |
Not Gary Snyder. Not Jack Chalker. (Who's he, btw?)
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remmers
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response 13 of 222:
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Mar 24 12:59 UTC 1998 |
Jack Chalker is a scifi writer.
Since I don't have much of an idea who this is, I'll make a *really*
wild guess: Arthur Miller.
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danr
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response 14 of 222:
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Mar 24 13:20 UTC 1998 |
How about John Perry Barlow?
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jep
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response 15 of 222:
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Mar 24 15:35 UTC 1998 |
Brian Aldiss?
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remmers
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response 16 of 222:
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Mar 24 19:16 UTC 1998 |
I guessed Arthur Miller, by the way, because the sentiment
expressed in the quote has a lot in common with the way the
Clark Gable character views things in Miller's and John
Huston's film "The Misfits". But the specifics in the
quote don't seem all that Millerish, though, and "free-
range" wasn't a buzzword back in 1960 when the film was
made, so I don't hold out much hope that I'm right.
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gibson
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response 17 of 222:
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Mar 24 19:52 UTC 1998 |
Arthur C. Clarke?
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tao
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response 18 of 222:
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Mar 24 21:55 UTC 1998 |
Barry Longyear?
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mcnally
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response 19 of 222:
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Mar 24 23:05 UTC 1998 |
my guess is that people are on the wrong track with all of the
sf-oriented guesses but I can't put my finger on why..
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aruba
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response 20 of 222:
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Mar 24 23:15 UTC 1998 |
Orson Scott Card?
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md
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response 21 of 222:
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Mar 25 00:09 UTC 1998 |
Wrong, all wrong. Here's another quote:
In Dimension Z, there are strange moments. Coming
around a long, rainy, New Mexico curve west of Magdalena,
the highway turns to a footpath, and the path to an animal
trail. A pass of my wiper blades, and the trail become a
forest place where nothing has ever gone. Again the wiper
blades and, again, something further back. Great ice, this
time. I am moving through short grass, in furs, with matted
hair and spear, thin and hard as the ice itself, all muscle
and implacable cunning. Past the ice, still further back
along the measure of things, deep salt water in which I
swim, gilled and scaled. I cannot see more than that,
except beyond plankton is the digit zero.
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gibson
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response 22 of 222:
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Mar 25 00:12 UTC 1998 |
Zalazny?
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md
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response 23 of 222:
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Mar 25 00:22 UTC 1998 |
Nope.
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sprice
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response 24 of 222:
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Mar 25 04:04 UTC 1998 |
Loren Eisley?
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