dead writers can't say "no"
Dickens,
Twain, https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%9C%D0%B0%D1%80%D0%BA_%D0%A2%D0%B2%D0%B5%D0%BD
http://www.lib.ru/INPROZ/MARKTWAIN/
Wolfe, https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%92%D1%83%D0%BB%D1%84,_%D0%A2%D0%BE%D0%BC%D0%B0%D1%81
http://www.lib.ru/INPROZ/WULF/
Peacock, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Love_Peacock
http://www.lib.ru/INOOLD/PIKOK/
Shaw,
Molière,
Jonson,
Wycherly,
Sam
Johnson.
Poets: Gerard Manley Hopkins,
Dylan Thomas,
Pope.
Painters: El Greco,
Tintoretto.
Musicians: Mozart,
Haydn,
Ravel,
Johann Strauss (!)
Mine? Gibson, Bradbury, H.Murakami, Lightman, Follet?
Music: Hans Zimmer, Yann Tiersen, Menken, Collins, Dario Marianelli
Reading authors who are dead is like stealing some friends for me. I'll go to virtual library, contained in my brightning monitor, and take Bradbury by the hand, and start like this: "You're sitting with me now. You're my friend, and you'll be teaching me, and you're my mentor now. I don't have others. So we're friends. DEAL WITH IT."
Dead writers can't say "no", perhaps.
New friends, ye-eha.
So we've got 1 sheep, Snape, tail-coated skeleton and myself. And also these guys. Girl, it's time to grow up.
There's no mentor for you. You have to make it from flaps of your own good as dead soul, learn it to breathe after you give your heart away to that thing.
Snape, I missed you. Do you like Gibson's "Pattern Recognition"? I love that thing.
Twain, https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%9C%D0%B0%D1%80%D0%BA_%D0%A2%D0%B2%D0%B5%D0%BD
http://www.lib.ru/INPROZ/MARKTWAIN/
Wolfe, https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%92%D1%83%D0%BB%D1%84,_%D0%A2%D0%BE%D0%BC%D0%B0%D1%81
http://www.lib.ru/INPROZ/WULF/
Peacock, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Love_Peacock
http://www.lib.ru/INOOLD/PIKOK/
Shaw,
Molière,
Jonson,
Wycherly,
Sam
Johnson.
Poets: Gerard Manley Hopkins,
Dylan Thomas,
Pope.
Painters: El Greco,
Tintoretto.
Musicians: Mozart,
Haydn,
Ravel,
Johann Strauss (!)
Mine? Gibson, Bradbury, H.Murakami, Lightman, Follet?
Music: Hans Zimmer, Yann Tiersen, Menken, Collins, Dario Marianelli
Reading authors who are dead is like stealing some friends for me. I'll go to virtual library, contained in my brightning monitor, and take Bradbury by the hand, and start like this: "You're sitting with me now. You're my friend, and you'll be teaching me, and you're my mentor now. I don't have others. So we're friends. DEAL WITH IT."
Dead writers can't say "no", perhaps.
New friends, ye-eha.
So we've got 1 sheep, Snape, tail-coated skeleton and myself. And also these guys. Girl, it's time to grow up.
There's no mentor for you. You have to make it from flaps of your own good as dead soul, learn it to breathe after you give your heart away to that thing.
Snape, I missed you. Do you like Gibson's "Pattern Recognition"? I love that thing.