Can’t believe no one has yet proferred the classic:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of
wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was
the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of
Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had
everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct
to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period
was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities
insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative
degree of comparison only.
Kinda the point. It’s supposed to drill into your head how everything in that period was taken to the extremes by taking the prose itself to the extremes.
Can’t believe no one has yet proferred the classic:
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
Why’d you stop halfway through?
Poor googling.
Pretty good book that doesn’t feel imo as old as it is
Is this sarcasm? I think if it stopped at the first dichotomy, or the second it would be fine. But it goes on for fucking ever.
If that wore you out, probably should stay away from Dickens.
Oh yes. I hate Dickens. Absolutely can’t stand him.
Well I like it.
I am happy for you in that, a little surprised. But good for you!
Kinda the point. It’s supposed to drill into your head how everything in that period was taken to the extremes by taking the prose itself to the extremes.
not all prose has to be prosaic