Sunday, December 22, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

John Galsworthy

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Come! Let us lay a lance in rest,
And tilt at windmills under a wild sky!
For who would live so petty and unblest
That dare not tilt at something ere he die;
Rather than, screened by safe majority,
Preserve his little life to little end,
And never raise a rebel cry!
--
Errantry, St. 1, Moods, Songs and Doggerels (1912)

 
John Galsworthy

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Peace to you, small lady. You've won a twisted poor modern knight, to wear your favor on his sleeve. But it's a twisted poor world we were both born into, that rejects us without mercy and ejects us without consultation. But at least I won't just tilt at windmills for you. I'll send in sappers to mine the twirling suckers and blow them into the sky.

 
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It takes committed, high energy, full-tilt boogie participation to have the kind of life you want.

 
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This kid is electric. He overpowered us today. There's no doubt about that. He had everything and threw everything where he wanted to throw it with velocity, with tilt, with sharpness.

 
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When i was younger, i was dressed up like a model, told to pose in certain ways; to tilt my head, push my lips out, suck in my cheeks. And i'd be tired at the end of the day so i'd just give the damned photographer what he wanted. It was the most mortifying experience. And the photographs were the ugliest, the most contrived...it wasnt me. then all the outtakes that you never want to see again in your life go through the teen magazines forever.

 
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