Monday 13 January 2014

Monday, 13 january 2014

We stopped in the middle of a long sentence/paragraph/page. Look for "... illegible airy plumeflights, all tiberiously ambiembellishing the initials majuscule of Earwicker;..." (119.16  )

Favorites of the day:

... please the pigs, ... (119.7 )

... chasms of Alle... (118. 21)

... the continually more and less intermisunderstanding minds of the anticollaborators, ... (118.24 )

... tare it or leaf it, ... (118. 28)

... we ought really to rest thankful that at this deleteful hour of dungflies dawning... (119. 31)

Also to remember - and to pause for a moment - that it was on this day in 1941 that the one who wrote, "... hoping against hope all the while that, by the light of philophosy, (and may she never foliage us!) things will begin to clear up a bit one way or another within the next quarrel of an hour...", passed away in Zurich, where today - like on other Mondays - these very words encouraged us, readers of FW, to hope that things will indeed begin to clear up a bit for us in Finnegans Wake. Soon!

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