June 24th, 2011

Whale fluke

That's thorough.

Here is where Charles Dickens used his getting-paid-by-the-word career for GLORY. From Little Dorrit, Book II, Chapter XXV, after swindler Mr. Merdle kills himself:


The report that the great man was dead, got about with astonishing rapidity. At first, he was dead of all the diseases that ever were known, and of several bran-new maladies invented with the speed of Light to meet the demand of the occasion. He had concealed a dropsy from infancy, he had inherited a large estate of water on the chest from his grandfather, he had had an operation performed upon him every morning of his life for eighteen years, he had been subject to the explosion of important veins in his body after the manner of fireworks, he had had something the matter with his lungs, he had had something the matter with his heart, he had had something the matter with his brain.
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    Patrick Doyle's oy-it's-overwrought score to Frankenstein
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