I Found a Penny Today, So Here's a Thought
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One-Thousand-Leaves wrote, "Your blog is neat. Thanks for making it and sharing it with us."
We appreciate the kind words! By the way (in case you didn’t already know), your name, “One Thousand Leaves,” is an anagram of “Nosh a sautéed novel.”
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"Anything is possible, unless it is proved impossible. And sometimes even then." From the missing last chapter to Joan Lindsay's Picnic at Hanging Rock, revealing the marvelous, eerie finale to the mystery of the story. See The Secret of Hanging Rock.
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We wonder if they make textbooks like this anymore. (Besides the ones we write, of course.) By only the fourth question, there's an elf. From The Miller-Kinkead Lessons in English, 1914. Also of interest: How to Believe in Your Elf.
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M. asked us, "How can one become physically beautiful at least for a brief moment before death." We find our four-pronged answer in E. N. Kirk's "How to Become Beautiful" (1846).
M. replied, "You did it! Great answer. You're some sort of magician with magic scrolls. Thank you beautiful wiz!"
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"I did not say it was possible; I only said it was true." —Dumas, or Sir Astley Cooper, or "the Fool in the play," or a character in The Castle Spectre, or [in actuality] Florent Carton Dancourt, Le Chevalier à La Mode, 1687 (as popularly translated into English).
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Even if the Loch Ness Monster is an automaton, as Ure's Dictionary of 1846 suggests, "Does it then follow that the automaton possesses a freedom of action, a freedom of will? Yes, we should think that it has a certain freedom of action (the freedom of will we had better leave aside because here the analogy is doubtful at present)" (I. G. Makarov, Cybernetics Today, 1984).
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Can you make out the Dickens quotation that serves as the motto? There was a time when even so-called pseudo-science sought nothing but "facts, facts, facts." Today, we're hard pressed to name any institution that could in good faith adopt such a motto. The media? Political pollsters? Climatologists? Any other white-coat wearer of what Robert Anton Wilson dubbed the New Inquisition? Selections from the Papers of the Phasmatological Society, 1882.
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If there's a skull lock and you forgot your skeleton key, try working a beam of light into the mechanism. Recall how "She springs a light, / Unlocks the door" (Dryden). Similarly, " Morning with its key of light / Unlocks the dusky p ortals of the night" ( Albert Laighton, Poems, 1878). And "My light unlocks the stalls, / two doz en and one windows open— / all, except the window of the moon, / already painted on as shining" (Jane Shore, Eye Level, 1977).
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Here we learn where a ghost's true reception chamber is, where a ghost draws its nectar, as well as why a sanitary engineer is your only exorcist: "There are many houses in Great Britain which have inherited evil reputations; there is a 'ghost's room,' or 'a ghost's corridor,' or 'a ghost's tower,' or 'a ghost's terrace.' The true ghost's walk is, however, in the basement; amongst and through foetid drains and foul sewers, the ghost's reception-chambers are ancient cesspools, and the ghost's nectar is drawn from tainted wells and neglected water cicterns. There are British ghosts; but there are also continental ghosts, if possible, more terrible: the chilling palaces of Italy, the gilded splendours of Paris, are alike ghost-haunted. Your only exorcist is the sanitary engineer." From All the Year Round, 1861.
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Original Content Copyright © 2026 by Craig Conley. All rights reserved.
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