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I will miss my son when he goes back to college. I think I might miss his new Christmas presents even more. His Kindle, for example, I deeply covert. He is reading one of his favourites on it, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and this quotation leaped out at me and shouted: "Time Lord Victorious":
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no-one else has the right to do so. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
Oh yes. The Time Lord is the only one who is capable of loathing himself, because loathing means judgement, and no other species has that right.
So much for the Kindle. I'm afraid I wouldn't mind his new headphones either. I listened to Vale Decem on them just now. Oh. My. God.
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no-one else has the right to do so. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
Oh yes. The Time Lord is the only one who is capable of loathing himself, because loathing means judgement, and no other species has that right.
So much for the Kindle. I'm afraid I wouldn't mind his new headphones either. I listened to Vale Decem on them just now. Oh. My. God.
