/lit/ - Literature

Why were men given language? As a cheap alternative to hitting each other with bricks, obviously. One hundred pieces of invective to identify. Some translated works; some non-fiction; one or two IRL put-downs. Some authors (no works) repeated. Well-known / revealing character names redacted.

Hints on request.

1)
“Aft here, ye sons of bachelors,” he cried, as the sailors lingered at the main-mast. “Mr. ————, drive ’em aft.”


2)
I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot.
So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.


3)
“He calls the knaves Jacks, this boy!” said ———— with disdain, before our first game was out. “And what coarse hands he has! And what thick boots!”

I had never thought of being ashamed of my hands before; but I began to consider them a very indifferent pair. Her contempt for me was so strong, that it became infectious, and I caught it.


4)
O,
the darling benevolent mindless
He— and She—
shaped waxworks filled
with dead ideas(the oh

quintillions of incredible
dodderingly godly toothless
always-so-much-interested-
in-everybody-else's-business

bipeds)


5)
'Get your dirty stinking moron knees off my chest.'
'If I letcha up, will you keep your mouth shut?'
I didn't even answer him.
He said it over again. '————. If I letcha up, willya keep your mouth shut?'
'Yes.'
He got up off me, and I got up, too. My chest hurt like hell from his dirty knees. 'You're a dirty stupid sonuvabitch of a moron,' I told him.

Fuck off

6)
I thought at first that I didn’t see him before was because he wasn’t standing where she was. Then I saw that he was the kind of fellow you wouldn’t see the first glance if he was alone by himself in the bottom of a empty concrete swimming pool.


7)
"Bright boy can do everything," Max said. "He can cook and everything. You'd make some girl a nice wife, bright boy."


8)
Thou art a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-liver’d, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mungril bitch.


9)
I could carve out of a banana a judge with more backbone than that.


10)
"But, Miss ————, lissen ter me. You ain' nuthin' but a mule in hawse harness. You kin polish a mule's feet an' shine his hide an' put brass all over his harness an' hitch him ter a fine cah'ige. But he a mule jes' de same. He doan fool nobody. An' you is jes' de same. You got silk dresses an' de mills an' de sto' an' de money, an' you give yo'seff airs lak a fine hawse, but you a mule jes' de same. An' you ain' foolin' nobody, needer. An' dat ———— man, he come of good stock and he all slicked up lak a race hawse, but he a mule in hawse harness, jes' lak you."

11)
“Are you saying I haven't any sense?” ———— demanded.
“If you know how a polished scholar should act, a dog's head can sprout horns!” the old man retorted.
A noisy stir ran through the audience. ———— grew angry.
“You cheap lackey! How dare you insult me!”
“Does it matter what I say to a cowherd like you?”
Someone in the audience recognized ————, and he cried: “Stop talking like that. He's our county's Constable ————.”
“Did you say 'constable' or 'constipated'?” ———— sneered.


12)
He would make a good lamp post if he’d weather better and didn’t have to eat.


13)
But from this time on, the chances are Regret will be ————'s best customer if he can borrow any more pound notes, but the competition gets too keen for him, especially from Last Card Louie, who is by this time quite a prominent character along Broadway, and in the money, although personally I always say you can have him, as Last Card Louie is such a guy as will stoop to very sharp practice, and in fact he often does not wait to stoop.


14)
And she's got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantity the girl who marries you will need.


15)
There is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting hutch of beastliness, that swoll'n parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuff'd cloakbag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

16)
Well, well, well, well. If it isn’t fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thy globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.


17)
Damn'd Christian dogs, and Turkish infidels!


18)
Before Me you are a slug in the sun. You are privy to a great Becoming and you recognize nothing. You are an ant in the after-birth.


19)
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.


20)
Fifty feet from the saloon I heard someone calling. I turned around. It was she, running on soft feet, coins jingling in her pockets. 'Young fellow!' she called. 'Oh kid!'
I waited and she came out of breath, speaking quickly and softly. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean anything — honest.'
'It's okay,' I said. 'I didn't mind.'
She kept glancing towards the saloon. 'I have to get back,' she said. 'They'll miss me. Come back tomorrow night, will you? Please! I can be nice. I'm awfully sorry about tonight. Please come, please!' She squeezed my arm. 'Will you come?'
'Maybe.'
She smiled. 'Forgive me?'
'Sure.'
I stood in the middle of the sidewalk and watched her hurry back. After a few steps she turned, blew a kiss and called, 'Tomorrow night. Don't forget!'
'Camilla!' I said. 'Wait. Just a minute!' We ran towards each other, meeting halfway.
'Hurry!' she said. 'They fire me.'
I glanced at her feet. She sensed it coming and I felt her recoiling from me. Now a good feeling rushed through me, a coolness, a newness like new skin. I spoke slowly.
'Those huaraches — do you have to wear them, Camilla? Do you have to emphasize the fact that you always were and always will be a filthy little Greaser?'

21)
"That bastard!" he began. "That goddam stunted, red faced, big-cheeked, curlyheaded, buck-toothed rat bastard son of a bitch!"
"What?" said ————.
"That dirty goddam midget-assed, apple-cheeked, goggle-eyed, undersized, buck-toothed, grinning, crazy sonofabitchinbastard!" ———— sputtered.
"What?"
"*Never mind!*"
"I still can't hear you," ———— answered.
———— swung himself around methodically to face ————. "You prick," he began.
"Me?"
"You pompous, rotund, neighborly, vacuous, complacent..."
———— was unperturbed.


22)
A fresh thought occurs to ————. He puts his head back out and hollers “Major ———— sucks NIGGERS!”


23)
O monster! mix’d of insolence and fear,
Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer!


24)
"You’ve lived in a hedonistic dream all your life, and you’ve got away with behaving like a cad because you always picked on women who could look after themselves. And my God you told us the score, you never committed yourself, you never said you loved us even when you did! A cold fish with clean hands! But it was just luck really if the girls survived. You’re like a man firing a machine gun into a supermarket who happens not to become a murderer."


25)
As for you, you will rot in the earth,
And it is doubtful if even your manure will be rich enough
To keep grass
Over your grave.

26)
I got to tell you, you don’t look too bright. I got a son, stupid as a man who bought his stupid at a two-for-one sale, and you remind me of him.


27)
He was a tool of the boss, without brains or backbone.


28)
“She’s not leaving me. Certainly not for a common swindler who’d have to steal the ring he put on her finger.”


29)
a politician is an arse upon
which everyone has sat except a man


30)
"But what does that prove?" he asked, in a gentle, persuasive voice.

"Ah, what indeed?" I murmured. "What does it prove?"

"Shall I tell you?" he cooed.

"Pray do."

"It proves," he roared, with a sudden blast of fury, "that you are the damnedest imposter in London — a vile, crawling journalist, who has no more science than he has decency in his composition!"

He had sprung to his feet with a mad rage in his eyes. Even at that moment of tension I found time for amazement at the discovery that he was quite a short man, his head not higher than my shoulder — a stunted Hercules whose tremendous vitality had all run to depth, breadth, and brain.

"Gibberish!" he cried, leaning forward, with his fingers on the table and his face projecting. "That's what I have been talking to you, sir — scientific gibberish! Did you think you could match cunning with me — you with your walnut of a brain? You think you are omnipotent, you infernal scribblers, don't you? That your praise can make a man and your blame can break him? We must all bow to you, and try to get a favorable word, must we? This man shall have a leg up, and this man shall have a dressing down! Creeping vermin, I know you! You've got out of your station. Time was when your ears were clipped. You've lost your sense of proportion. Swollen gas-bags! I'll keep you in your proper place. Yes, sir, you haven't got over G. E. C. There's one man who is still your master. He warned you off, but if you WILL come, by the Lord you do it at your own risk. Forfeit, my good Mr. ————, I claim forfeit! You have played a rather dangerous game, and it strikes me that you have lost it."

31)
The driver parked and unhitched the tailgate, and Francis and Rudy leaped down. The two then joined the other five in loading the truck with the fresh dirt. Rudy mumbled aloud as he shoveled: “I’m workin’ it out.”
“What the hell you workin’ out now?” Francis asked.
“The worms,” Rudy said. “How many worms you get in a truckload of dirt.”
“You countin’ ‘em?”
“Hundred and eight so far,” said Rudy.
“Dizzy bedbug,” said Francis.


32)
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!


33)
Here it is. I quote: Pusillanimous. Adjective. Wanting of firmness of mind, of small courage, having a little mind, mean spirited, cowardly, timid of mind. From the Latin pusillus, very little, and animus, the mind. (Slams the book shut.) That's my wife! That's *her* isn't it? Behold the Lady Pusillanimous. (Shouting hoarsely.) Hi, Pusey! When's your next picture?


34)
— Thou slut, thou cut, thou rakes, thou jakes! will not shame make thee hide thee?

— Thou skald, thou bald, thou rotten, thou glutton! I will no longer chide thee...


35)
“By whose leave do ye come here?” said ————.

“All Jungles are our Jungle,” was the reply, and the dhole that gave it bared his white teeth. ———— looked down with a smile, and imitated perfectly the sharp chitter-chatter of Chikai, the leaping rat of the Dekkan, meaning the dholes to understand that he considered them no better than Chikai. The Pack closed up round the tree-trunk and the leader bayed savagely, calling ———— a tree-ape. For an answer ———— stretched down one naked leg and wriggled his bare toes just above the leader’s head. That was enough, and more than enough, to wake the Pack to stupid rage. Those who have hair between their toes do not care to be reminded of it. ———— caught his foot away as the leader leaped up, and said sweetly: “Dog, red dog! Go back to the Dekkan and eat lizards. Go to Chikai thy brother—dog, dog—red, red dog! There is hair between every toe!”

36)
Listen to me. Let me tell you, that you are all a set of babbling, posing idiots! If you’ve any little trouble you brood over it like a hen over an egg. And you are plagiarists even in that! There isn’t a sign of independent life in you! You are made of spermaceti ointment and you’ve lymph in your veins instead of blood. I don’t believe in anyone of you! In any circumstances the first thing for all of you is to be unlike a human being!


37)
“Don’t fool yourself, my dear. You’re much worse than a bitch. You’re a saint. Which shows why saints are dangerous and undesirable.”


38)
As for you, my balmy Boer that walks like a man, I say again it was a grave error in our foreign policy ever to set you free, once we nabbed you and your commando with Cronje. We should have taken you to the London zoo and incarcerated you in the baboons' cage. With a sign: "Spectators may distinguish the true baboon by his blue behind."


39)
He's not human; he's an empty space disguised as a human.


40)
‘I have discharged myself from your service,’ said Pancks, ‘that I may tell you what you are. You’re one of a lot of impostors that are the worst lot of all the lots to be met with. Speaking as a sufferer by both, I don’t know that I wouldn’t as soon have the Merdle lot as your lot. You’re a driver in disguise, a screwer by deputy, a wringer, and squeezer, and shaver by substitute. You’re a philanthropic sneak. You’re a shabby deceiver!’

(The repetition of the performance at this point was received with a burst of laughter.)

‘Ask these good people who’s the hard man here. They’ll tell you Pancks, I believe.’

This was confirmed with cries of ‘Certainly,’ and ‘Hear!’

‘But I tell you, good people — Casby! This mound of meekness, this lump of love, this bottle-green smiler, this is your driver!’ said Pancks. ‘If you want to see the man who would flay you alive — here he is! Don’t look for him in me, at thirty shillings a week, but look for him in Casby, at I don’t know how much a year!’

41)
"Nulty is the kind of guy — well, were you ever up at Crestline?"

"Yeah."

"Well, up near Crestline there's a place where a bunch of old box cars have been made into cabins. I have a cabin up there myself, but not a box car. These box cars were brought up on trucks, believe it or not, and there they stand without any wheels. Now Nulty is the kind of guy who would make a swell brakeman on one of those box cars."

"That's not nice," I said. "A fellow officer."


42)
Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn’t let on.


43)
"He's a malicious, bad-disposed, vorldly-minded, spiteful, windictive creetur, with a hard heart as there ain't no soft'nin', as the wirtuous clergyman remarked of the old gen'l'm'n with the dropsy, ven he said, that upon the whole he thought he'd rayther leave his property to his vife than build a chapel vith it."


44)
'Do you call my mother anything?'
'Your mother? Yes.'
'What do you call my mother?'
'I call her the old Bunch of Rags,' said ————.


45)
And look at yourself! Take a look at yourself in that worn-out Mardi Gras outfit, rented for fifty cents from some rag-picker! And with the crazy crown on! What queen do you think you are?

Oh — God...

I've been on to you from the start! Not once did you pull any wool over this boy's eyes! You come in here and sprinkle the place with powder and spray perfume and cover the light-bulb with a paper lantern, and lo and behold the place has turned into Egypt and you are the Queen of the Nile! Sitting on your throne and swilling down my liquor! I say — Ha — Ha! Do you hear me? Ha — Ha — Ha!

46)
Her wings would scarcely carry her now, but in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his chin a loving bite. She whispered in his ear, 'You silly ass'; and then, tottering to her chamber, lay down upon the bed.


47)
“If you see kay
Tell him he may
See you in tea
Tell him from me.”


48)
This awful Whitman. This post-mortem poet. This poet with the private soul leaking out of him all the time. All his privacy leaking out in a sort of dribble, oozing into the universe.


49)
You say you're young and beautiful. But Bassa, is it true?
The really lovely need not speak, but just appear in view.


50)
At that time, which was the season of vintage, in the beginning of harvest, when the country shepherds were set to keep the vines, and hinder the starlings from eating up the grapes, as some cake-bakers of Lerne happened to pass along in the broad highway, driving into the city ten or twelve horses loaded with cakes, the said shepherds courteously entreated them to give them some for their money, as the price then ruled in the market. For here it is to be remarked, that it is a celestial food to eat for breakfast hot fresh cakes with grapes, especially the frail clusters, the great red grapes, the muscadine, the verjuice grape, and the laskard, for those that are costive in their belly, because it will make them gush out, and squirt the length of a hunter’s staff, like the very tap of a barrel; and oftentimes, thinking to let a squib, they did all-to-besquatter and conskite themselves, whereupon they are commonly called the vintage thinkers. The bun-sellers or cake-makers were in nothing inclinable to their request; but, which was worse, did injure them most outrageously, calling them prattling gabblers, lickorous gluttons, freckled bittors, mangy rascals, shite-a-bed scoundrels, drunken roysters, sly knaves, drowsy loiterers, slapsauce fellows, slabberdegullion druggels, lubberly louts, cozening foxes, ruffian rogues, paltry customers, sycophant-varlets, drawlatch hoydens, flouting milksops, jeering companions, staring clowns, forlorn snakes, ninny lobcocks, scurvy sneaksbies, fondling fops, base loons, saucy coxcombs, idle lusks, scoffing braggarts, noddy meacocks, blockish grutnols, doddipol-joltheads, jobbernol goosecaps, foolish loggerheads, flutch calf-lollies, grouthead gnat-snappers, lob-dotterels, gaping changelings, codshead loobies, woodcock slangams, ninny-hammer flycatchers, noddypeak simpletons, turdy gut, shitten shepherds, and other suchlike defamatory epithets; saying further, that it was not for them to eat of these dainty cakes, but might very well content themselves with the coarse unranged bread, or to eat of the great brown household loaf.

51)
“I made up my mind. You gonna go out and get you a job.”

Oh, what low joke was Fortuna playing on him now? Arrest, accident, job. Where would this dreadful cycle ever end?

“I see,” ———— said calmly. “Knowing that you are congenitally incapable of arriving at a decision of this importance, I imagine that that mongoloid law officer put this idea into your head.”


52)
Don stuttering, Don with roving eyes,
Don nervous, Don of crudities;
Don clerical, Don ordinary,
Don self-absorbed and solitary;
Don here-and-there, Don epileptic;
DOn puffed and empty, Don dyspeptic;
Don middle-class, Don sycophantic,
Don dull, Don brutish, Don pedantic;
Don hypocritical, Don bad,
Don furtive, Don three-quarters mad —


54)
I cannot but conclude the bulk of your natives to be the most pernicious race of little odious vermin that nature ever suffered to crawl upon the surface of the earth.


53)
“You bloody old towser-faced boot-faced totem-pole on a crap reservation.”


55)
What a strange man you are. Aren't you? You're really strange. Ever since you come into this house there's been nothing but trouble. Honest. I can take nothing you say at face value. Every word you speak is open to any number of different interpretations. Most of what you say is lies. You're violent, you're erratic, you're just completely unpredictable. You're nothing else but a wild animal, when you come down to it. You're a barbarian. And just to put the old tin lid on it, you stink from arse-hole to breakfast time.

56)
You are insolent and cruel, and think yourself a great man because you live in a little world, and that a bad one. If ———— comes to his own again, the doors of his house are wide, but you will find them narrow when you try to fly through them.


57)
– Fuck off, ya plukev–faced wee hing oot. Git a fuckin ride! ———— snarled as we piled intae the taxi.


58)
“Listen. A bitch like you has plenty of places to go. Why do you have to come here and louse a decent café?”
“I just came in to have a drink. What’s wrong with that?”
“At home they’d serve you and then break the glass.”


59)
I never saw anybody take so long to dress, and with such little result.


60)
“You are the Devil,” William said then.

Jorge seemed not to understand. If he had been able to see, I would say he stared at his interlocutor with a dazed look. “I?” he said.

“Yes. They lied to you. The Devil is not the Prince of Matter; the Devil is the arrogance of the spirit, faith without smile, truth that is never seized by doubt. The Devil is grim because he knows where he is going, and, in moving, he always returns whence he came. You are the Devil, and like the Devil you live in darkness. If you wanted to convince me, you have failed. I hate you, Jorge, and if I could, I would lead you downstairs, across the ground, naked, with fowl’s feathers stuck in your asshole and your face painted like a juggler and a buffoon, so the whole monastery would laugh at you and be afraid no longer. I would like to smear honey all over you and then roll you in feathers, and take you on a leash to fairs, to say to all: He was announcing the truth to you and telling you that the truth has the taste of death, and you believed, not in his words, but in his grimness. And now I say to you that, in the infinite whirl of possible things, God allows you also to imagine a world where the presumed interpreter of the truth is nothing but a clumsy raven, who repeats words learned long ago.”

61)
"Thou wretch! — thou vixen! — thou shrew!" said I to my wife on the morning after our wedding, "thou witch! — thou hag! — thou whipper-snapper! — thou sink of iniquity — thou fiery-faced quintessence of all that is abominable! — thou — thou — "


62)
He is simply a hole in the air.


63)
“Are you going to hit me? To show how much you love me?”

“No.” All at once he felt massively strong. “Oh, no. Don’t worry. I couldn’t be bothered. You’re not worth the trouble it’d take to hit you. You’re not worth the powder it’d take to blow you up. You’re an empty — ” He was aware, as his voice filled out, of a sense of luxurious freedom because the children weren’t here. Nobody was here, and nobody was coming; they had this whole reverberating house to themselves. “You’re an empty, hollow fucking shell of a woman...”


64)
Scold like a cot-quean: that's your profession. Thou poor shadow of a soldier, I will make thee know my master keeps servants, thy betters in quality and performance.


65)
Don't wonder, Rufus, why you sleep alone,
Without some girl to offer you caresses,
Despite your endless gifts of pretty dresses
And necklaces of rare translucent stone.
I've heard some nasty rumours. In the vale
Beneath your arms a goat resides, it's said.
This scares them off. Quite right! To go to bed
With such a filthy's beast's beyond the pale.
So try to smell more like a human being,
Or otherwise get used to people fleeing.

66)
Gilbert reached across the aisle, picked up the end of Anne’s long red braid, held it out at arm’s length and said in a piercing whisper:

“Carrots! Carrots!”

Then Anne looked at him with a vengeance!


67)
"You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"


68)
‘Well, Milly; too bad you’re not a mare too. Then I could give you a decent stall in the stable.’


69)
"Your hair wants cutting."


70)
"Yes," said ————. He looked levelly at the great red face across the desk. "It's a remarkable case-history. Galloping paranoia. Delusions of jealousy and persecution. Megalomaniac hatred and desire for revenge. Curiously enough," he went on conversationally, "it may have something to do with your teeth. Diastema, they call it. Comes from sucking your thumb when you're a child. Yes. I expect that's what the psychologists will say when they get you into the lunatic asylum. 'Ogre's teeth.' Being bullied at school and so on. Extraordinary the effect it has on a child. Then Nazism helped to fan the flames and then came the crack on your ugly head. The crack you engineered yourself. I expect that settled it. From then on you were really mad. Same sort of thing as people who think they're God. Extraordinary what tenacity they have. Absolute fanatics. You're almost a genius. Lombroso would have been delighted with you. As it is you're just a mad dog that'll have to be shot. Or else you'll commit suicide. Paranoiacs generally do. Too bad. Sad business."

———— paused and put all the scorn he could summon into his voice. "And now let's get on with this farce, you great hairy-faced lunatic."

71)
The sheriff walked around and climbed into the driver's seat. He studied ———— for a minute and then he said: Let me tell you something.

All right, said ————.

He reached down and tapped ————'s knee with his forefinger. You, my good buddy, are a fourteen carat gold plated son of a bitch. That's what your problem is. And that being your problem, there's not a whole lot of people in sympathy with you. Or with your problem. Now I'm going to do you a favor. Against my better judgement. And it's not goin to make me no friends. I'm goin to drive your stinkin ass to the bus station and give you an opportunity to get out of here.


72)
"I hardly ever have sexual intercourse."

"You were born with your legs apart. They’ll send you to the grave in a Y-shaped coffin."


73)
At that time Ohio State University had one of the best football teams in the country, and Bolenciecwcz was one of its outstanding stars. In order to be eligible to play it was necessary for him to keep up in his studies, a very difficult matter, for while he was not dumber than an ox he was not any smarter.


74)
Be silent, Ithun! thou art, I say,
Of women most lustful in love,
Since thou thy washed-bright arms didst wind
About thy brother's slayer.


75)
Do you see, Curt, that for this man exist no laws, no constitutions, no prescribed human order? He stands above everything and everybody. The universe is created for his private use. The sun and the moon pursue their courses in order to spread his glory among the stars. Such is this man: this insignificant captain, who could not even reach the rank of major, and at whose strutting everybody laughs, while he thinks himself feared; this poor wretch who is afraid in the dark and believes in barometers: and all this in conjunction with and having for its climax — a barrowful of manure that is not even prime quality!

76)
—Pothead! ———— said with calm contempt. What does he know about the way from Sallygap to Larras? Or what does he know about anything for that matter? And the big slobbering washing-pot head of him!


77)
I am no longer the suicide

with her raft and paddle.
Herr Doktor! I'll no longer die

to spite you, you wallowing
seasick grounded man.


78)
A vile beastly rottenheaded foolbegotten brazenthroated pernicious piggish screaming, tearing, roaring, perplexing, splitmecrackle crashmecriggle insane ass of a woman is practicing howling below-stairs with a brute of a singingmaster so horribly, that my head is nearly off.


79)
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!


80)
Do you know what I find particularly galling, he told them. It's having to share the women with you lot. To listen to you fuckwits holding forth and to see some lissome young thing leaning forward breathlessly with that barely contained frisson with which we are all familiar the better to inhale without stint an absolute plaguebreath of bilge and bullshit as if it were the word of the prophets. It's painful but still I suppose one has to extend a certain latitude to the little dears. They've so little time in which to parlay that pussy into something of substance. But it nettles. That you knucklewalkers should even be allowed to contemplate the sacred grotto as you drool and grunt and wank. Let alone actually reproduce. Well the hell with it. A pox upon you. You're a pack of mudheaded bigots who loathe excellence on principle and though one might cordially wish you all in hell still you wont go. You and your nauseating get. Granted, if everyone I wished in hell were actually there they'd have to send to Newcastle for supplementary fuel. I've made ten thousand concessions to your ratfuck culture and you've yet to make the first to mine. It only remains for you to hold your cups to my gaping throat and toast one another's health with my heart's blood.

81)
After God had finished the rattlesnake, the toad, and the vampire, He had some awful substance left with which He made a scab. A scab is a two-legged animal with a corkscrew soul, a waterlogged brain, and a combination backbone made of jelly and glue. Where others have hearts, he carries a tumor of rotten principles.

When a scab comes down the street, men turn their backs and angels weep in heaven, and the devil shuts the gates of hell to keep him out. No man has a right to scab as long as there is a pool of water deep enough to drown his body in, or a rope long enough to hang his carcass with.


82)
You common cry of curs, whose breath I hate
As reek o' th' rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air — I banish *you*.


83)
And I will allow that dark period of your early youth to remain in obscurity. You may with impunity, as far as I am concerned, have broken through walls in your youth, and plundered your neighbours, and beaten your mother. Your infamous character has this advantage, that the baseness of your youth is concealed by your obscurity and vileness.


84)
Cold-blooded, smooth-faced, placid miscreant!
Dabbling its sleek young hands in Erin’s gore,
And thus for wider carnage taught to pant,
Transferred to gorge upon a sister shore,
The vulgarest tool that tyranny could want,
With just enough of talent and no more,
To lengthen fetters by another fixed
And offer poison long already mixed.


85)
The bum stops sobbing abruptly and sits up, looking for the fiver or, I presume, his bottle of Thunderbird. I reach out and touch his face gently once more with compassion and whisper, "Do you know what a fucking loser you are?"

86)
fotherington-thomas. As you can see he is skipping like a girlie he is uterly wet and a sissy. He reads chaterbox chiz and we suspeckt that he kepes dollies at home.


87)
This man says you threatened his life.
What man?
This man. The sergeant nodded toward the door of the shed.
Brown continued to saw. You call that a man? he said.


88)
You're so ambitious, aren't you? Do you know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube. You're a well-scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste. Your eyes are like cheap birthstones — all surface shine when you stalk some little answer. And you're bright behind them, aren't you? Desperate not to be like your mother. Good nutrition has given you some length of bone, but you're not more than one generation out of the mines, Officer ————.


89)
She would of been a good woman . . . if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.


90)
A spaceship, yet another one, but this one sleek and silver, descended from the sky on to the pitch, quietly, without fuss, its long legs unlocking in a smooth ballet of technology.

It landed gently. It extended a short ramp. A tall grey-green figure marched briskly out and approached the small knot of people who were gathered in the centre of the pitch tending to the casualties of the recent bizarre massacre. It moved people aside with quiet, understated authority, and came at last to a man lying in a desperate pool of blood, clearly now beyond the reach of any Earthly medicine, breathing, coughing his last. The figure knelt down quietly beside him.

"Arthur Philip Deodat?" asked the figure.

The man, with horrified confusion in eyes, nodded feebly.

"You're a no-good dumbo nothing," whispered the creature. "I thought you should know that before you went."

91)
Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel.

Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess.

Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter, that the outside of them may be clean also.

Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness.


92)
Shadwell alone, of all my sons, is he
Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity.
The rest to some faint meaning make pretence,
But Shadwell never deviates into sense.


93)
————, for sport perhaps, or from the spirit of contradiction, eagerly maintained that Derrick had merit as a writer. Mr. Morgann argued with him directly, in vain. At length he had recourse to this device. 'Pray, Sir, (said he,) whether do you reckon Derrick or Smart the best poet?' ———— at once felt himself roused; and answered, 'Sir, there is no settling the point of precedency between a louse and a flea.'


94)
Listen, Roper. Two years ago you were a passionate Churchman; now you're a passionate — Lutheran. We must just pray, that when your head's finished turning your face is to the front again.


95)
— Moron!
— Vermin!
— Abortion!
— Morpion!
— Sewer-rat!
— Curate!
— Cretin!
— (with finality) Crritic!
— Oh!

[He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.]

96)
George is bogged down in the History Department. He's an old bog in the History Department, that's what George is. A bog... a fen... a G.D. swamp. Ha, ha, ha, HA! A SWAMP! Hey, swamp! Hey, SWAMPY!


97)
[Reads] As for the old weather-beaten she-dragon who guards you — Who can he mean by that?

Me, sir! — me! — he means me!


98)
Serious critics, serious librarians, serious associate professors of English will if they read this work dislike it intensely; at least I hope so.


99)
Gussie, a glutton for punishment, stared at himself in the mirror.


100)
General H.H. Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a pet rib-nosed baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but imperfectly beautiful. Returning to his apartment one evening, the General was surprised and pained to find Adam (for so the creature is named, the general being a Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing his master's best uniform coat, epaulettes and all.

"You confounded remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist, "what do you mean by being out of bed after naps? — and with my coat on!"

Adam rose and with a reproachful look got down on all fours in the manner of his kind and, scuffling across the room to a table, returned with a visiting-card: General Barry had called and, judging by an empty champagne bottle and several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably entertained while waiting. The general apologized to his faithful progenitor and retired. The next day he met General Barry, who said:

"Spoon, old man, when leaving you last evening I forgot to ask you about those excellent cigars. Where did you get them?"

General Wotherspoon did not deign to reply, but walked away.

"Pardon me, please," said Barry, moving after him; "I was joking of course. Why, I knew it was not you before I had been in the room fifteen minutes."

>>21272534
>16)
>Well, well, well, well. If it isn’t fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thy globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.
A Clockwork Orange lol

96)
George is bogged down in the History Department. He's an old bog in the History Department, that's what George is. A bog... a fen... a G.D. swamp. Ha, ha, ha, HA! A SWAMP! Hey, swamp! Hey, SWAMPY!


97)
[Reads] 'As for the old weather-beaten she-dragon who guards you' — Who can he mean by that?

Me, sir! — me! — he means me!


98)
Serious critics, serious librarians, serious associate professors of English will if they read this work dislike it intensely; at least I hope so.


99)
Gussie, a glutton for punishment, stared at himself in the mirror.


100)
General H.H. Wotherspoon, president of the Army War College, has a pet rib-nosed baboon, an animal of uncommon intelligence but imperfectly beautiful. Returning to his apartment one evening, the General was surprised and pained to find Adam (for so the creature is named, the general being a Darwinian) sitting up for him and wearing his master's best uniform coat, epaulettes and all.

"You confounded remote ancestor!" thundered the great strategist, "what do you mean by being out of bed after naps? — and with my coat on!"

Adam rose and with a reproachful look got down on all fours in the manner of his kind and, scuffling across the room to a table, returned with a visiting-card: General Barry had called and, judging by an empty champagne bottle and several cigar-stumps, had been hospitably entertained while waiting. The general apologized to his faithful progenitor and retired. The next day he met General Barry, who said:

"Spoon, old man, when leaving you last evening I forgot to ask you about those excellent cigars. Where did you get them?"

General Wotherspoon did not deign to reply, but walked away.

"Pardon me, please," said Barry, moving after him; "I was joking of course. Why, I knew it was not you before I had been in the room fifteen minutes."

>>21272620
Quite right. Pretty much unchanged in the film, as I recall.

>>21272519
1 from Treasure Island?
2 is from the Bible, I think revelations
>>21272524
10 has to be Faulkner
>>21272541
18 Confederacy of Dunces
22 Catch-22?
>>21272587
67 A Christmas Carol
>>21272592
72 is fucking brutal. I have no guess I just wanted to comment.
>>21272599
76 Portrait of the Artist

85 could be American Psycho
5 is the Catcher in the Rye

>>21272642

>1 from Treasure Island?
A logical guess, but nope.

>2 is from the Bible, I think revelations
Sure is. Revelations 3:15-16. The Holy Spirit telling the Laodiceans how it is. As popularized by DDL in Gangs of New York.

>10 has to be Faulkner
Right part of the world, wrong author.

>18 Confederacy of Dunces
No, but CoD is in there.

>22 Catch-22
Catch-22 is in there, but it's not #22. It shoulda been I guess.

>67 A Christmas Carol
Correct. Scrooge trying out a joke.

>72 is fucking brutal. I have no guess I just wanted to comment.
Yeah, punches unpulled. It's a 20th-century stage play.

>76 Portrait of the Artist
Correct. Once you hear it in an Irish accent it's obvious.

>>21272648

>85 could be American Psycho
Could be and is. Let's hope PB is nice to the poor unfortunate fellow down on his luck.

>5 is the Catcher in the Rye
Correct. Good old Holden.

>>21272519
1.) Moby Dick
2.) The Book of Revelation
4.) ... E.E. Cummings?
5.) The Catcher in the Rye
8.) Romeo and Juliet?
>>21272529
15) That’s Henry IV (who could forget the inimitable Falstaff?)
>>21272541
22.) Slothrop in Gravity’s Rainbow
24.) Is this Fowles’ Magus?
47.) Ulysses’s Circe section (damn you’re good at these selections)
>>21272572
51.) A Confederacy of Dunces
>>21272604
>89) I get Raymond Chandler from this
>She would of been a good woman . . . if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.

>>21272599
77) Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy”?
>I am no longer the suicide
>with her raft and paddle.
>Herr Doktor! I'll no longer die
>to spite you, you wallowing
>seasick grounded man.

>>21272610
91.) That’s clearly from one of the Gospels

>>21272714

>1.) Moby Dick
Correct. Leaving Starbuck uncensored would have been a bit of a giveaway.

>2.) The Book of Revelation
Correct, although someone else got there first.

>4.) ... E.E. Cummings?
Yes, the distinctive eec style. Normally we like a title but he generally doesn't do titles. That one is just called "Ode" (from the collection "Is 5").

>5.) The Catcher in the Rye
Correct, although others got there already.

>8.) Romeo and Juliet?
Right author, wrong work.

>15) That’s Henry IV (who could forget the inimitable Falstaff?)
Of course.

>22.) Slothrop in Gravity’s Rainbow
Correct. Major Marvy on the receiving end.

>24.) Is this Fowles’ Magus?
Nope. The author is like Fowles in some ways. In other ways she isn't, haha.

>47.) Ulysses’s Circe section (damn you’re good at these selections)
Correct, a bit of Joycean punning.

>51.) A Confederacy of Dunces
Of course. Fortuna + the horrors of getting a job can only be one thing.

>89) I get Raymond Chandler from this
Nope. RC is elsewhere. This is a famous line from a famous short story. (In theory, a /lit/ favourite.)

>77) Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy”?
No, SP is elsewhere. But this is someone who (in my opinion) shamelessly copied her, so a natural mistake.

>91.) That’s clearly from one of the Gospels
Sure is, but we'll need specifics before we award the VALUABLE PRIZE.

This is way harder than villians, great job btw.

>>21272579

57. Trainspotting

>>21272625

96. Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?

>>21272863

>57. Trainspotting
Correct. Incomprehensible Scottish dialect narrows it down a bit. Apparently "plukev-faced" means spotty. "Sick Boy" is the censored name.

>96. Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Correct. Good old George and Martha. I could have had another dozen from this if I were repeating works.


I was intending to use animated anime girls for multiple-answer posts, but sadly I only have three animated gifs :( Never mind. Best Girl Miyako is as good as a gif any day.

There wouldn't happen to be a Frederick Rolfe in there? If not, he should be: he was a master of bdelygmia (he called his publisher a "broad-nosed dough-faced dwarf", for lack of a better example).

>>21273037
Who he?

I hope he didn't say loads of cool insulting stuff. That would be saddening. Oh well, can't win 'em all.

>>21272519

3. Great expectations

>>21272549

35. Second Junglebook

>>21272582

63. Brief history of 7 killings
2 are guesses

>>21273086
Great failed priest turned artist turned writer turned starving paranoiac pederast in Venice; his The Desire & Pursuit of the Whole, Hadrian the Seventh ("a lazy luxurious (the second intention was ‘debauched’) jesuitical machiavellian and false-pretentious ignoramus"), and his letters contain a lot of great invective.

>>21273138

>3. Great expectations
Right. Estella doing her thing. Poor Pip.

>35. Second Junglebook
Correct. Mowgli leading the dog pack into the Wild Bee Trap of Doom.

>63. Brief history of 7 killings
Nope. This one is definitely tricky, since there must be lots of stories with similar scenes.

bump for OP

>>21272524
7 is The Killers, by Hemingway, which I've never read, but I saw the 1946 adaptation last week. The diner scene that 'bright boy' is from is the only bit taken directly from the Hemingway short, and it's also the only good part of the film

>>21272541
21 is totally catch-22. i can never remember why orr had crabapples in his cheeks (outside of being better than chestnuts)

>>21273698
Correct. I've seen the later film with Lee Marvin (it's nothing like the story). Haven't seen that B&W one.

>>21273759
Correct. Yossarian talking to Aarfy about Orr.

Orr put apples (or horse chestnuts) in his cheeks because he wanted big cheeks (or maybe because he wanted people to think he was a moron). And he carried rubber balls in his hands so that when people accused him of having crabapples (or horse chestnuts) in his cheeks he could show them that they weren't crabapples (or horse chestnuts), they were rubber balls, and they weren't in his cheeks, they were in his hands.

Sadly this plan didn't work because no-one could understand a word he was saying because his cheeks were stuffed with crabapples (or horse chestnuts).

Bump before bed.

>>21272514
You blithering dotard, a plain black shape with a jagged inner shape - is that supposed to make it look as if the words "leap from the page", my god. And what you written, oh this is rich,
>!@#$%E*
oh very sharp, anon, very fucking sharp.

Careful we don't cut ourselves on the cutting edge of your intellect and vocabulary.


OHHH A GAME! I WUV GAMES! YEEY
>>21272519
1) MR. BASTARD
2) (this is a trick question)
3) MRS. TRIPE THE BUTCHERS WHORE
4) FUCKS, CREAMS
5) GREAT BOUNCING BALLS THAT CLANG WITH THE SYMPHONY OF A WAILING CHILD

and there were more,
>>21272524
6) (this is a trick question)
7) (this is a trick question)
8) (this is a trick question)
9) (this is a trick question)
10) CUNT-FACE

ok im bored, was fun, 10 stars

>>21272587
>66
Anne of Green Gables

>>21275656
Correct. Not sure why she hates her red hair so much. She should take a leaf from Pippi Longstocking's book.

43. Paul Clifford? I don't recognize the specific insult, but Dummie talks like that.
59. I don't remember where it's from, but is definitely Oscar Wilde.

>>21276886
>43. Paul Clifford? I don't recognize the specific insult, but Dummie talks like that.
Not right, but not a bad guess. It's a similar setting. (I think swapping "v" and "w" was a thing in Victorian Cockney dialect.)

>59. I don't remember where it's from, but is definitely Oscar Wilde.
That's definitely possible.

Bump.

Hint: The following are translated works:
2 (already answered), 11, 23, 27, 36, 49, 50, 56, 65, 74, 83, 91, 95 (sort of)

Hello, local Blood Meridian expert stopping in to say that 87) is Blood Meridian.

>>21278676
Correct. Brown mutilating that lovely shotgun, for which he will burn in hell for all eternity.

>>21272524
7 is The Killers by Hemingway?

>>21272604
88) is silence of the lambs
it's actually better than you would think

>>21278764
Correct. Yes it's good. The film would have been much better if they'd left Lecter's dialogue intact.

>>21278763
It is, yes. Someone already got it (although only from a film adaptation, not from reading it).

19 is Sylvia Plath, "Daddy."
32 I think is Shakespeare, Julius Caesar.
92 is the Dunciad?
93 is Life of Johnson.

>>21280441

>19 is Sylvia Plath, "Daddy."
Sure is. Every woman adores a fascist.

>32 I think is Shakespeare, Julius Caesar.
Yup. The guy at the beginning castigating the crowd.

>92 is the Dunciad?
No, but I agree it looks like that. Same snide tone, same heroic couplets. But this is the poem that Pope copied when he wrote the Dunciad.

>93 is Life of Johnson.
Of course.

95. Waiting for Godot

And some guesses from translated comment:

11. Master and Margarita

36. Notes from the underground


Are you English btw lad? This quiz and the last seems to be very UK writers heavy. What county you from?

>>21272514
100 questions? I thought this was a quiz, not an exam

>>21281562

>95. Waiting for Godot
Correct.

>11. Master and Margarita
Wrong country. This one's tough, I think.

>36. Notes from the underground
Right country, wrong book.

I just noticed, my "translated" list is incomplete. #60 is translated too. Oh well, better late than never.

>Are you English btw
I'm a citizen of 4chan.

>lad?
Like everyone else here, I'm actually a cute girl.

>This quiz and the last seems to be very UK writers heavy.
This week has about 40 UK authors, 40 USA, 20 miscellaneous. Some would call that UK-heavy. Some would call it USA-heavy. Some would certainly call it Anglophone-heavy, but I only use books I've read, so what can you do?

I haven't kept statistics but I assume the geographic breakdown stays roughly the same from week to week. I might go and check, just for fun. (It might also be interesting to see how much author overlap there is.)

>>21281641
>100 questions? I thought this was a quiz, not an exam
It is. Exams rarely have as many as 100 questions. Also exams aren't fun, the way this quiz is.

>>21272519
1 Moby Dick
2 Revelation 3:15-16
3 Great Expectations
4 E.E Cummings
5 The Catcher in the Rye: Holden
>>21272524
6 The Great Gatsby
7 The Killers
8 King Lear
9 I Don't know
10 Gone With the Wind
>>21272529
11 I don't know
12 Player Piano
13 Princess O'Hara
14 Mostly Sally
15 Henry IV
>>21272534
16 A Clockwork Orange
17 The Jew of Malta
18 I don't know
19 Daddy
20 Ask The Dust
>>21272541
21 Catch-22
22 Gravity's Rainbow
23 The Goddess Intervenes between Achilles and Agamemnon
24 The Sea, the Sea
25 Monumentum Aere
>>21272545
26 American Gods
27 The Metamorphosis
28 The Great Gatsby
29 E.E Cummings
30 The Lost World
>>21272549
31 Ironweed
32 Julius Caesar
33 I don't know
34 Gammer Gurton's Needle
35 I don't know

>>21282522

>1 Moby Dick
>2 Revelation 3:15-16
>3 Great Expectations
>4 E.E Cummings
>5 The Catcher in the Rye: Holden
>7 The Killers
>15 Henry IV
>16 A Clockwork Orange
>19 Daddy
>21 Catch-22
>22 Gravity's Rainbow
>32 Julius Caesar
Correct, but others already had these.

>6 The Great Gatsby
Nope, although Gatsby does indeed own a swimming-pool. This is an American novelist of roughly the same period.

>8 King Lear
Correct. Kent really doesn't like Oswald.

>9 I Don't know
This is tricky. It's an IRL witticism, not a quotation from a book. American statesman.

>10 Gone With the Wind
Correct. Mammy telling Scarlett what's what.

>11 I don't know
This one's tough. It's translated, and I've said it's not Russian. It's from the middle of a really long work.

>12 Player Piano
Correct.

>13 Princess O'Hara
Correct. (A Damon Runyon short story, if anyone's wondering.)

>14 Mostly Sally
Correct, I guess. P. G. Wodehouse. I think that's the USA title. It was called The Adventures of Sally in England.

>17 The Jew of Malta
Correct. Sort of work-out-able I think. I mean who else would castigate Christians and Muslims?

>18 I don't know
Tricky because not a heavyweight canon work, but someone might get it from the film.

>20 Ask The Dust
Correct. Fante doing Bukowski before Bukowski was even a thing. That whole scene is so savage.

>23 The Goddess Intervenes between Achilles and Agamemnon
Err, correct, sort of. You haven't named the work or the original author or the guy who wrote this particular translation. But that is indeed what's going on, more or less.

>24 The Sea, the Sea
Correct. One of Arrowby's many women telling him exactly what he is. Can't remember if she's real or an hallucination. I think she's real.

>25 Monumentum Aere
Yes, although there are people out there who might like an author's name. (It's Pound.)

>26 American Gods
Correct.

>27 The Metamorphosis
Correct.

>28 The Great Gatsby
Correct. Tom stomping on Jay. (But this means #6 can't be right, as no works are repeated).

>29 E.E Cummings
Correct. Just "Poem X" from "1x1". eec wasn't a big titles guy.

>30 The Lost World
Correct. Professor Challenger expressing some sensible opinions about the press.

>31 Ironweed
Correct. Yes another book that never gets mentioned here, but I guess the character names are a help.

>33 I don't know
This was very famous in its day but maybe forgotten now. It's a 20th-century stage play.

>34 Gammer Gurton's Needle
Correct, but if you've actually read this I will be astonished. No-one's read this.

>35 I don't know
Someone already got this, if you scroll up a bit.


A fine effort, definitely worth an animated girl, but sadly I don't have any more. Chibiusa has pink hair, though, so that's something.

Anyone got 10? Dying to know.

>>21282740

Literally the previous post. Lol nvm