|
|
| Author |
Message |
void
|
|
mysterious quote item
| 
Mar 21 22:51 UTC 1999 |
This is the spring edition of a Grex game that has been running for many
seasons now.
It works like this: Whoever is "up" posts a published quote. The object
is to guess the author. The first person to guess correctly gets to give
the next quote.
If you're up and people are having trouble, it's considered good form to
give hints and/or another quote by the same author.
If you're guessing, please guess one author at a time (that is, no
scattergun guessing by one person). If you're told that your guess is
wrong, then you're free to guess a different author.
Your quotes can be easy or hard, but the authors should be people that
at least some Grexers are apt to have heard of.
[thanks to remmers for the above text]
|
| 278 responses total. |
void
|
|
response 1 of 278:
|
Mar 21 23:08 UTC 1999 |
when we left winter agora, it was my turn. here's my quotation:
i can remember the two of us the next day eating lunch while sitting
on the low white wall along the boundary of romanee conti -- cold
chicken, french bread, a fromage dur and a bottle of romanee conti
itself. we spread our food on the top of the wall and stood the bottle
alongside, together with two good wineglasses. my father drew the cork
and poured the wine while i did my best to carve the chicken, and there
we sat in the warm autumn sun, watching the grape-pickers combing the
rows of vines, filling their baskets, bringing them to the heads of
the rows, dumping the grapes into larger baskets which in turn were
emptied into carts drawn by pale creamy-brown horses. i can remember
my father sitting on the wall and waving a half-eaten drumstick in the
direction of this splendid scene and saying, "you are sitting, my boy,
on the edge of the most famous piece of land in the whole world! just
look at it! four and a half acres of flinty red clay! that's all it
is! but those grapes you can see them picking at this very moment will
produce a wine that is a glory among among wines. it is also almost
unobtainable because so little of it is made. this bottle we are
drinking now came from here eleven years ago. smell it! inhale the
bouquet! taste it! drink it! but never try to describe it! it is
impossible to put such a flavour into words! to drink a romanee conti
is like having an orgasm in the mouth and the nose both at the same
time."
i loved it when my father got himself worked up like this.
listening to him during those early years, i began to realize how
important it was to be an enthusiast in life. he taught me that if
you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full
speed ahead. embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it, and above
all become passionate about it. lukewarm is no good. hot is no good,
either. white hot and passionate is the only thing to be.
|
cmcgee
|
|
response 2 of 278:
|
Mar 21 23:45 UTC 1999 |
(I can't wait to see who wrote this).
|
senna
|
|
response 3 of 278:
|
Mar 22 04:46 UTC 1999 |
John Steinbeck? Probably too positive for him, but it doesn't sound
like Bradbury.
|
rcurl
|
|
response 4 of 278:
|
Mar 22 04:55 UTC 1999 |
Spring 1999 agora item 20, the "mysterious quote item", has been linked
to books 83.
|
davel
|
|
response 5 of 278:
|
Mar 22 12:09 UTC 1999 |
Thanks, Rane.
I have no idea on this one.
|
void
|
|
response 6 of 278:
|
Mar 22 12:24 UTC 1999 |
neither steinbeck nor bradbury. the author is a dead european male.
|
sjones
|
|
response 7 of 278:
|
Mar 22 19:21 UTC 1999 |
frustratingly vaguely familiar...
|
void
|
|
response 8 of 278:
|
Mar 22 23:39 UTC 1999 |
here's another quotation taken from the same work as the one in
resp:1:
then suddenly, in the absolute stillness that prevailed, y-----'s
small sweet voice began to sing 'un bel di vedremo'. the effect was
stunning. in that place, in that atmosphere, in the dark night beside
the lake outside p------'s window, i was moved beyond words. i saw
the composer freeze. the pen was in his hand against the paper and
the hand froze and his whole body became motionless as he sat listening
to the voice outside the window. he didn't look round. i don't think
he dared to look round for fear of breaking the spell. outside his
window a young maiden was singing one of his favorite arias in a small
clear voice in absolutely perfect pitch. his face didn't change
expression. his mouth didn't move. nothing about him moved while the
aria was in progress. it was a magic moment. then y----- stopped
singing. for a few seconds longer p------ remained sitting at the
piano. he seemed to be waiting for more, for a sign of some sort from
outside. but y----- didn't move or speak either. she simply stood
there with her face upturned to the window, waiting for the man to come
to her.
and come to her he did. i saw him put down his pen and rise slowly
from the piano stool. he walked to the window. then he saw y-----.
i have spoken many times of her scintillating beauty, and the sight of
her standing out there so still and serene must have come as a glorious
shock to p------. he stared. he gaped. was this a dream? then
y----- smiled at him and that broke the spell. i saw him come
suddenly out of his trance and i heard him say, "dio mio come bello!"
then he jumped clear out of the window and clasped y----- in a powerful
embrace.
|
void
|
|
response 9 of 278:
|
Mar 23 22:54 UTC 1999 |
here are some more hints: this author was married to an american
actress, and was also more well-known for his children's books than
for the books geared more toward adults.
|
valkyrie
|
|
response 10 of 278:
|
Mar 23 23:25 UTC 1999 |
My guess is C S Lewis. If this is right, i'll come up with something
better than Heinlein as a quote :)
|
md
|
|
response 11 of 278:
|
Mar 24 00:09 UTC 1999 |
The clue describes Roald Dahl.
|
cyklone
|
|
response 12 of 278:
|
Mar 24 02:58 UTC 1999 |
Damn, just missed it. I think you're right MD. It seemed very familiar.
|
md
|
|
response 13 of 278:
|
Mar 24 11:50 UTC 1999 |
If that's who it is, then you can enter the next quote,
cyklone. I didn't guess the quote, just the clue.
|
cyklone
|
|
response 14 of 278:
|
Mar 24 12:22 UTC 1999 |
Well, I'm fresh out of quotes today (and we haven't gotten confirmation that
we're right), so I think I'll wait a bit . . . . .
|
void
|
|
response 15 of 278:
|
Mar 24 12:49 UTC 1999 |
roald dahl is right. the quotations were from _my uncle oswald_.
i'll let cyklone and md decide between themselves who is next.
|
awwn96
|
|
response 16 of 278:
|
Mar 27 04:58 UTC 1999 |
quit
quit at the start of a line
?
|
bdh1
|
|
response 17 of 278:
|
Mar 27 09:29 UTC 1999 |
"Fiery the angels fell. Deep thunder rolled along lee shores."
"Burning with the fires of Ork."
|
happyboy
|
|
response 18 of 278:
|
Mar 27 22:37 UTC 1999 |
d00d...is that a zepplin t00n?
|
bdh1
|
|
response 19 of 278:
|
Mar 30 09:26 UTC 1999 |
Heh, yeah.
|
davel
|
|
response 20 of 278:
|
Mar 30 12:04 UTC 1999 |
None the less, we're waiting for either cycyklone or md ...
|
cyklone
|
|
response 21 of 278:
|
Mar 30 12:32 UTC 1999 |
I'll defer to anyone who wants to enter a quote (or to md).
|
md
|
|
response 22 of 278:
|
Mar 30 12:35 UTC 1999 |
Oops, sorry. Here's one:
"She says this park would make a tidy summer resort, if
there was any custom for it. Summer resort -- another
invention of hers -- just words, without any meaning.
What is a summer resort? But it is best not to ask her,
she has such a rage for explaining."
|
md
|
|
response 23 of 278:
|
Mar 31 00:04 UTC 1999 |
Here's another one, same author of course:
"The naming goes recklessly on, in spite of anything
I can do. I had a very good name for the estate, and
it was musical and pretty -- Garden-of-Eden. Privately,
I continue to call it that, but not any longer publicly.
The new creature says it is all woods and rocks and
scenery, and therefor has no resemblance to a garden.
She says it *looks* like a park, and does not look like
anything *but* a park. Consequently, without consulting
me, it has been new-named -- Niagara Falls Park. This
is sufficiently highhanded, it seems to me. And already
there is a sign up:
KEEP OFF
THE GRASS
My life is not as happy as it was."
|
johnnie
|
|
response 24 of 278:
|
Mar 31 02:07 UTC 1999 |
Twain.
|