【TOP 50】 Ambrose Gwinett Bierce Quotes - WhatsApp Status | Page-4
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![INFERIAE,n. [Latin] Among the Greeks and Romans, sacrifices for propitation of the _Dii Manes_, or souls of the dead heroes; for the pious ancients could not invent enough gods to satisfy their spiritual needs, and had to have a number of makeshift deities, or, as a sailor might say, jury-gods, which they made out of the most unpromising materials. It was while sacrificing a bullock to the spirit of Agamemnon that Laiaides, a priest of Aulis, was favored with an audience of that illustrious warrior's shade, who prophetically recounted to him the birth of Christ and the triumph of Christianity, giving him also a rapid but tolerably complete review of events down to the reign of Saint Louis. The narrative ended abruptly at the point, owing to the inconsiderate crowing of a cock, which compelled the ghosted King of Men to scamper back to Hades. There is a fine mediaeval flavor to this story, and as it has not been traced back further than Pere Brateille, a pious but obscure writer at the court of Saint Louis, we shall probably not err on the side of presumption in considering it apocryphal, though Monsignor Capel's judgment of the matter might be different; and to that I bow --wow. - Ambrose Gwinett Bierce Quotes](/pic/img/img.php?text=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&author=ICBBbWJyb3NlIEd3aW5ldHQgQmllcmNlICAgIA==&num=1 "INFERIAE,n. [Latin] Among the Greeks and Romans, sacrifices for propitation of the _Dii Manes_, or souls of the dead heroes; for the pious ancients could not invent enough gods to satisfy their spiritual needs, and had to have a number of makeshift deities, or, as a sailor might say, jury-gods, which they made out of the most unpromising materials. It was while sacrificing a bullock to the spirit of Agamemnon that Laiaides, a priest of Aulis, was favored with an audience of that illustrious warrior's shade, who prophetically recounted to him the birth of Christ and the triumph of Christianity, giving him also a rapid but tolerably complete review of events down to the reign of Saint Louis. The narrative ended abruptly at the point, owing to the inconsiderate crowing of a cock, which compelled the ghosted King of Men to scamper back to Hades. There is a fine mediaeval flavor to this story, and as it has not been traced back further than Pere Brateille, a pious but obscure writer at the court of Saint Louis, we shall probably not err on the side of presumption in considering it apocryphal, though Monsignor Capel's judgment of the matter might be different; and to that I bow --wow. - Ambrose Gwinett Bierce Quotes")
![TORTOISE, n. A creature thoughtfully created to supply occasion for the following lines by the illustrious Ambat Delaso:TO MY PET TORTOISEMy friend, you are not graceful --not at all; Your gait's between a stagger and a sprawl.Nor are you beautiful: your head's a snake's To look at, and I do not doubt it aches.As to your feet, they'd make an angel weep.'Tis true you take them in whene'er you sleep.No, you're not pretty, but you have, I own, A certain firmness --mostly you're [sic] backbone.Firmness and strength (you have a giant's thews) Are virtues that the great know how to use --I wish that they did not; yet, on the whole, You lack --excuse my mentioning it --Soul.So, to be candid, unreserved and true, I'd rather you were I than I were you.Perhaps, however, in a time to be, When Man's extinct, a better world may seeYour progeny in power and control, Due to the genesis and growth of Soul.So I salute you as a reptile grand Predestined to regenerate the land.Father of Possibilities, O deign To accept the homage of a dying reign!In the far region of the unforeknown I dream a tortoise upon every throne.I see an Emperor his head withdraw Into his carapace for fear of Law;A King who carries something else than fat, Howe'er acceptably he carries that;A President not strenuously bent On punishment of audible dissent --Who never shot (it were a vain attack) An armed or unarmed tortoise in the back;Subject and citizens that feel no need To make the March of Mind a wild stampede;All progress slow, contemplative, sedate, And](/pic/img/img.php?text=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&author=ICBBbWJyb3NlIEd3aW5ldHQgQmllcmNlICAgIA==&num=1 "TORTOISE, n. A creature thoughtfully created to supply occasion for the following lines by the illustrious Ambat Delaso:TO MY PET TORTOISEMy friend, you are not graceful --not at all; Your gait's between a stagger and a sprawl.Nor are you beautiful: your head's a snake's To look at, and I do not doubt it aches.As to your feet, they'd make an angel weep.'Tis true you take them in whene'er you sleep.No, you're not pretty, but you have, I own, A certain firmness --mostly you're [sic] backbone.Firmness and strength (you have a giant's thews) Are virtues that the great know how to use --I wish that they did not; yet, on the whole, You lack --excuse my mentioning it --Soul.So, to be candid, unreserved and true, I'd rather you were I than I were you.Perhaps, however, in a time to be, When Man's extinct, a better world may seeYour progeny in power and control, Due to the genesis and growth of Soul.So I salute you as a reptile grand Predestined to regenerate the land.Father of Possibilities, O deign To accept the homage of a dying reign!In the far region of the unforeknown I dream a tortoise upon every throne.I see an Emperor his head withdraw Into his carapace for fear of Law;A King who carries something else than fat, Howe'er acceptably he carries that;A President not strenuously bent On punishment of audible dissent --Who never shot (it were a vain attack) An armed or unarmed tortoise in the back;Subject and citizens that feel no need To make the March of Mind a wild stampede;All progress slow, contemplative, sedate, And")
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