May 8, 2010

“Yer whoal body will be burnin’ and singin’ wi’ unbearable pain, and yer blackened tongues will be stickin’ out of yer mouth, and yer cracked lips will try to scream out for a drop of water, but no sound won’t come because yer throat is drier nor the sandy desert and yer eyes will be beatin’ like great red balls against yer shrivelled eyelids…”

From Amos Starkadder’s fire and brimstone sermon delivered to the Church of the Quivering Brethren. I have not read a funnier novel than Cold Comfort Farm.

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