I love the fact that someone quotes Orsino's opening lines in Twelfth Night, and wants love. Quoting Orsino when you are in love is perfect stupidity; Orsino does not love Olivia, of whom he speaks in that opening scene; he loves himself, and himself as he acts when in love. Thus "If music is the food of love, play on,/ Give me excess of it; that ( Read more... )

I finished Shakespeare, I finished Shakespeare! Haha. But I loathe Twelfth Night. I am sure it is all very enjoyable on-stage, but I cannot stand it in its written form. Now all I have to do is analyse and understand it. Right.

I am also convinced the Sir Toby of Dinner for One is a rip-off/allusion to Shakespeare. Blargh, why must he be

London was stunning, again. Despite a bout of gastric flu ("omgangssyke", in Norwegian), it was oh-so worth the trip in Aurora's smoked car and perpetually late Ryanair. And despite my disregard of Shakespeare, the Globe was fantastic. Our guide was marvellously British, with a penchance for "indeed", noted by most of my class-mates. I did not bat ( Read more... )

"Does such a thing as 'the fatal flaw', that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside of literature? I used to think it didn't. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs." - The Secret History, Donna Tartt ( Read more... )

I complained that there was no snow, and I got a snow-storm. But, at the very least, the world is white again. Snow is a marvel, it makes the ugliest of things astounding ( Read more... )