The gods have given the nod to the old library (with its remarkable, numinous reading room), far removed in spirit at least from the anomie of its environs and, to date, immune from the depredations of the locals, which I ascribe simply to their superstitious fear of the carvings on the outer walls.
An achievement everlastingly indefeasible in the Annals of Dumbassery (Vol. XII, pp. 431-434, "The uses of quadrivial quandaries in rural charities"), Mr. Myte's masterful analysis of Ms. Mussock's dependence on the whey-splattered tussock is the best sort of logophiliac largess[e].
In receipt of an imperfect copy of the parchment, Theodore mistook the ideogram signifying "henchman" for a similar one meaning "chief wife", thereby unfortunately cementing rather than palliating his reputation for dumbassery.
The web is being either recalcitrant or, more likely, indecisive, in yielding up the correct pronunciation of "ploce"; only my undownable enthusiasm for hearing the particular music of "ploce" is prompting me to continue collecting possible options in order that I may finally be able to say "ploce" out loud in public and reassure myself that collectively these dictionary sites are not as namby-pamby as they now seem.
His usual comportment was that of a reasonable and modest man, but on the occasion in question, he abandoned ratiocination and restraint completely, bellowing fiats, decrees, and ukases in an epanorthotic frenzy of cocaine-induced grandiosity.
"My dear Miss Sinclair", he murmured solicitously, "let us eschew laborious periphrasis and come straight to the point: those John Lennon glasses, which give you a vague air of benevolent owlishness, are the perfect disguise for someone of your fiery and cross-grained temperament."
Mrs. Delver, stung by her mother-in-law's animadversions, finally capitulated and named her son Nimrod Ransacker Delver III, although she remained uncertain whether such a rhopalic name suggested greatness or only fatuity.
It was not easy to nonplus Dr. Guernsey, whose unruffled savoir-faire extended to cover even our current predicament, although his oafish sidekick Frank was badly rattled enough for both of them, to the point that several of the well-armed mob in front of us began to grin at his chapfallen consternation, even to laugh, albeit ferally.
And lo! Leviathan shall rise up from her abode in the deep, piffling snortily as she comes, and the savoir faire of the people shall be greatly troubled and, yea, their gallimaufries shall be gathered up and beaten into, um, big fish hooks.
THE FLANEUR: A STROLL THROUGH THE PARADOXES OF PARIS, while perhaps not Edmund White's chef d'oeuvre, is nevertheless idiosyncratically engaging and probably particularly roborant for anyone interested in winnowing from his experience any traces of heterosexuality.
Mr Rafferty is sadly wanting in esprit de corps: he sets himself above the rest of us, desiring to be thought our resident pundit, regularly delivering himself of sententious exhortations meant to spur us to conform to his higher standards and, while we do not want another robotic myrmidon, we would be grateful if he showed a smidge more team spirit, particularly when we are all pinned down by enemy fire.
The disputacious bastard was always disrupting my carefully cultivated hebetude, but this particular public assault on my amour-propre (in the form of some cutting remarks on the nature of my friendship with Yves, the couturier) was the last straw, so I roused myself, sharpened my wits, and gave him a thorough tongue-lashing.
Despite being a sartorially sophisticated rapporteur for the evening wear segment of the fashion industry, I was overcome by the tristful beauty of the Badgley Mischka couture wedding dress, with its light dusting of smoky beads.
It was into that dispiriting imbroglio that I blundered, haud scienter, this morning around 7:45, where I was forced to languish miserably for what seemed like hours, although likely it was not so long; my commitment to accuracy is quite malleable in the service of making a sympathetic impression.
We drove down to Donald's country house to rusticate for a few days, looking forward especially to seeing once more the small astrobleme lake - surprisingly circular for a completely natural feature - with the delightfully congruous rotunda on the island in the center (where Donald used to linger, scienter, in the hopes of glimpsing Rory skinny dipping).
Quadrivial Quandary (QQ) is owned and operated by Rudi Seitz.
Sentences submitted to QQ are the property of their authors. See our page on Copyright Information for details.
Dictionary definitions are the property of their respective sources, presented here via public RSS feeds or otherwise with permission.
All other material is copyright 2015 by Rudi Seitz, all rights reserved.
Use of this site is governed by our terms of service.
Contact: rudi at quadrivialquandary dot com.