"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Saturday, February 01, 2014
Nothing Else To Do
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journals (March 9, 1839):
Byron says of Jack Bunting, "He knew not
what to say, and so he swore." I may say it
of our preposterous use of books, He knew not what to do, and so he read.