August 22, 2006
-
Squeee!
-
Then to the well-trod stage anon, If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild. And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony;
-
Such a pretty place. Wish I'd known they were selling.
-
Hey! I'll sell them my archives too. And they wouldn't need to offer 6 figures either. (or 5, or 4, or 3, I'll draw the line there though)
-
I'd love to be one of the archivists who get to catalogue the collection. *sigh* Archive envy!
-
Something tells me that mothninjette is on the Franklin Covey mailing list.
-
It's a grand addition to the works of Coleridge, but it is too bad that the family extorted such a sum for the money.
-
All Coleridge really means to me is what Hazlitt gives him in 'On My First Acquaintance With Poets'.
-
Another favorite that's very timely is Fears in Solitude, written as England lay on the brink of war. And then there's the story of Wilkie Collins's mother's famous advice to Coleridge on the subject of laudanum. No famous poets among my ancestry. I'll have to sell my Grandpa's collection of old rusty mufflers or something.
-
Exposed: Here's a four figger price for ye-- $1.14 Take it or leave it. Priceless collection, but I can understand the dollar figure on it. If it were mine, I'm afraid I would be philistine enough to do the same.
-
...it is too bad that the family extorted such a sum for the money. Not sure what you mean by that VoL but if you meant the family "extorted" a six figure settlement for the goods, I could disagree. It's all just words. Words, words, words. If someone wants, and can afford, to pay one million for a Rembrandt—let them. I'm sure it was appraised and negotiated as all priceless things are: arbitrarily. After all, it's their money. I didn't read anything about how the British Library regretted their decision. In fact, it came across much the opposite: