There was a woman from New York
Who knew not of
sobriety
She ate her meals with
just a fork
And failed in high
society
Don’t ask me. They just jump in there and say ‘type me.’
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...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
About Me
- JJ
- Ashbourne, Derbyshire, United Kingdom
- I've never had money because I've never been driven by money. I received little formal education beyond the age of sixteen, which isn't such a bad thing since you get a different angle on life that way. Learning what you want and need to learn often reveals things that the system's road keeps hidden.
BOOKS
Anyone interested in viewing the availablity of my novel Odyssey or novella The Gift Horse can do so here.
To Be Retained...
...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
Khalil Gibran on Children.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
OMAR KAYYAM ON REGRET.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
Herman Hess on Nobility
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
Free Fiction
I have another blog called A Handful of Stories on which I've posted some of my short fiction. Most of it has been published by a variety of independent small press publishers, so somebody other than me must have thought it worth reading.
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- A Fond Recollection and Two Little Catastrophes.
- How to Get Published.
- Other Ashbourne Notes.
- Ashbourne and the Cronut.
- The Problem with Cronuts.
- Two Notes of Little Consequence.
- A Party Political Broadcast.
- Evening Shapes and a Special Star.
- Declining the Smile.
- A Matter of Taste.
- A Kind of Therapy.
- Shifting into Dream Mode.
- Envy.
- Siddharta's Little Helper.
- The Old Wet House.
- Connections.
- Melancholy Music and a Meeting with Queens.
- In the Cryptic Tradition.
- A Dichotomous Sheep.
- The Value of Fiction.
- Smelling the Sweaty Armpit of Big Brother.
- Always Look on the Bright Side...
- Irrelevant Sprogs and Important Dogs.
- Capt Oates Revisited.
- Versions 2.
- This Evening.
- Telling the HSP to Ignore the Discord.
- A Little Paradox.
- A Little Gallic Mystery.
- Gifts from Disparate Sources.
- Watching the Diurnal Performance.
- A Soppy Spanish Song.
- Seeing Through the Heat.
- Piercing Comes to the Shire.
- Summer Evening Encounters.
- The Sensory Experience.
- Versions.
- Late Night Difficulties and the Ganesha Tendency.
- Resisting the Trend.
- One Day's Issues.
- Old Acquaintances.
- Three Angles on Premature Death.
- Trials and the Waltz Form.
- Considering a Grey Area.
- A Little Observation.
- Falling Foul of the Times.
- Reviewing Romance.
- Looking Ahead.
- Relative Concepts.
- Naming the Nuisance.
- Having a Big Back Yard.
- Our Big Brother in Westminster.
- Polite and Empty Sounds.
- Sending the Adman to Where the Sun Don't Shine.
- Madame Mazumah Says...
- A Little Moan about Experts.
- A Companion at Last.
- This Evening's Shire Diary.
- The Toll of a Long Winter.
- One Word.
- Smells and Wondering.
- Broad from the Bronx?
- Shades of Arbitrary Definition.
- Rank and Dank Opportunism.
- The Fishing Game.
- Shrinking Childhood.
- The Boy from Minnesota.
- Hobbit Talk.
- Respecting Life and Things Living.
- Blaming the Sheep.
- A Captive But Reluctant Audience.
- Glamour vs Beauty.
- Becoming Important.
- Is Senility Setting In Early?
- The Savage Beneath the Skin.
- Today So Far.
- The Messenger Bird.
- The Great Balancing Mechanism.
- Stressed Kids and the Greed Connection.
- A Kate Rusby Caution.
- On Being an Elf.
- The Meaning of Life #Whatever.
- Being a Target Again.
- The Magic of Egypt.
- Faulty Radar and (Mostly) Connected Bits.
- Being a Bowl of Petunias.
- Flying Sheep.
- Today's Shire Journal.
- The Luck Bag.
- Being Comfortably British.
- A Very Short Life.
- When Heart and Head Go to War.
- Two News Notes.
- Misunderstanding Mr A.
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Pictures.
All the permanent pictures and some of the posted ones on this blog are my copyright. Most of them, however, are placed with a picture library which holds the licensing rights. I don't, therefore, have the legal right to grant permission to use them.
An Inhabitant of the Hungry Ghost Realm
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
CURRENT MOON
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When everything that is illusion is removed, all that remains is consciousness.
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