Old Welsh lit: Dave punched Steve. This incurred a fine of twelve cattle and a nine-inch rod of silver and is known as one of the Three Mildly Annoying Blows of the Isle of Britain
Old Irish lit: Dave punched Steve so that the top of his skull came out of his chin, and gore flooded the house, and he drove his fists down the street performing his battle-feats so that the corpses were so numerous there was no room for them to fall down. It was like “the fox among the hens” and “the oncoming tide” and “that time Emily had eight drinks when we all know she should stop at six”
Old English lit: Dave, the hard man, the fierce man, the fist-man, gave Steve such a blow the like has not been seen since the feud between the Hylfings and the Wends. Thus it is rightly said that violence only begets more violence, unless of course it is particularly sicknasty. Amen.
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imagine tim drake passing his english lit classes purely because of his stalkerish obsession with jason todd leading to him hacking into jason's laptop and reading all his old lit essays and book blog
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the sexual tension between me and the songs from my teenage years
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Joseph Brodsky, from The Selected Poems of Joseph Brodsky; "A Letter in a Bottle,"
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I've accidentally started a book club at school... A couple of the girls in my form asked me for a classic book recommendation for their English homework and I suggested Jane Eyre because they usually read a lot of YA fantasy romance and I remember being hooked by it when I was a similar age.
Fast forward a week or so and I'm now getting daily updates from their group of friends because they're so into it! They've taken over my classroom at lunchtime to have a chat about what's going on at Thornfield and are giving me some truly WILD predictions about what's going to happen. I've never seen a group of 13 year olds so mad about a classic and it's heartwarming to watch them experience the story for the first time. They're only about half way through the book and they're already looking for similar classics to read afterwards.
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no need to hurry. no need to sparkle. no need to be anybody but oneself.
// virginia woolf, a room of one's own
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Why My Mother Made Me, Sharon Olds
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Some Nika Goltz inspired Midsummer Night's Dream
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