Monday, December 31, 2012

Who'll not dance on Janus' parapet tonight?



  Mother, be natural for   a minute.

  I don't know what you     mean. I'm trying to       realise a very bitter     truth ..

  There's nothing so very   bitter about it.

  My poor child!

  Very well, then! I love   Sandy, and he loves me!



                    That would be the only 
                    possible excuse for your 
                    behaviour.

                    Why shouldn't we love 
                    each other?

                    Sandy was in love with me 
                    this afternoon.
















  One cannot possibly love
  this world, the same way,       every hour. A gladdening
  thing, is to've been giv-
  en such inconstancy as an
  ironclad excuse. 
  


  

  
  

























Noel Coward
Hay Fever
1925
Three Plays by
  Noel Coward
Edward Albee, editor
Dell Publishing, 1965©


iii   Eugen Timofaev



2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. One could say the same for your posting of 9 October last :)

      Thank you for bringing your odyssey so far afield. Here, one cannot intend to be beautiful, one has to rely on statistical regression. But you may try us again some day. Cheers on your journey.

      Delete

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