[cl-l10n-devel] pragmatism

[Jessy Foley]

A most discreet, understanding man, he said ofMarlow.
He had a flair for humandeformity; his humour was sardonic.
Squire are not fiercely attached toanything in itself. The newspaper crocusis an amazing but still a very different plant.
Journalism embalmed in a book is unreadable.
Butpresumably there were a certain number of knives among the spoonsand the forks. He was himself, simply and directly,and himself he has remained.
It is worse, he will say, and perhaps morecommon, to be afraid of feeling than to feel too much. We arenauseated by the sight of trivial personalities decomposing in theeternity of print.
But while we are gratified, I, thatunruly partner in the human fellowship, is reduced to despair.
But the night comes and these flowersfade. It goes on, but already we are bemused with sound and neither feelnor hear. Butpresumably there were a certain number of knives among the spoonsand the forks. Among his readers were people of the most oppositeages and sympathies. Now once more the conditions have changed. He cannot afford thetime either to be himself or to be other people.
There is no ginabout; no strong tobacco; no puns, drunkenness, or insanity. He has clearly made the best of hiscircumstances and not the worst. I wentwith him to hear what he had to say, for shepherds talk quitedifferently from other men. The ingot is so small, the manipulation so incessant.
But it is ill work dragging such intimationsfrom their element. 
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