"Stop a minute, Ambrose!" interrupted Master Nathaniel. "I've got a sudden silly whim that we must should take an oath I must have read when I was a youngster in some old book...the words have suddenly come back to me. They go like this: We (and then we say our own names), Nathaniel Chanticleer and Ambrose Honeysuckle, swear by the Living and the Dead, by the Past and the Future, by Memories and Hopes, that if a Vision comes begging at our door we will take it in and warm it at our hearth, and that we will not be wiser than the foolish nor more cunning than the simple, and that we will remember that he who rides the Wind needs must go where his Steed carries him. Say it after me, Ambrose."
"By the White Ladies of the Fields, never in my life have I heard such fustian!" grumbled Master Ambrose.
HOPE MIRRLEES, Lud-in-the-Mist
I'm only half-here these days, and there aren't as many cat pictures.
I still talk about video games, and strange ideas, and things that annoy me.
I do not mind if you friend me. I generally don't friend back immediately unless I know you from somewhere, but once you've commented for a while I'll probably add you.
My fandoms and the characters and pairings I obsess over in them.
sex_and_violets :: musebox and miscellanea.
andthekey :: icon journal.
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