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Tell a Greek who is dying of hunger to go to heaven and he will go Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit." "But I do not see that you have started for heaven." A smile of derision, accompanied by a grimace, crossed Caffies face.
And, ere she could recover her composure, Hazel was back to his problem again; but no longer with the same energy. He said in a faint and sleepy voice: "'He maketh the winds His messengers, and flames of fire His ministers. Ah! if I could do that! Well, why not? I can do anything she bids me Graeculus esuriens coelum jusseris ibit."
And then, of course, there is his treatise on ocrite: how he happened to find the ore, the probable amount available on L-472 or Ibit, if you prefer and an explanation of his new method of refining it. I saw him frantically gathering specimens while we were getting ready to leave, but it wasn't until after we had departed that he mentioned what he had found.
Tell a Greek who is dying of hunger to go to heaven and he will go Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit." "But I do not see that you have started for heaven." A smile of derision, accompanied by a grimace, crossed Caffies face.
A literary astrologer, he never applied himself to any task but at the happy moment when all the stars consented. Bentley thought himself likely to live till fourscore, long enough to read everything that was worth reading, "Et tunc magna mei sub terris ibit imago."
You know it to-day as Ibit, port-o'-call for interplanetary ships, and source of ocrite for the universe, but to me it will always be L-472, the world of terrible tentacles. My story begins nearly a hundred years ago reckoned in terms of Earth time, which is proper, since I am a native of Earth when I was a young man.
One cannot help remembering, Ibit eo quo vis qui zonam perdidit. Lord Leicester went up to the Duke of Newcastle, and said, "I never heard so great an orator as Lord Kilmarnock? if I was your grace I would pardon him, and make him paymaster." The paymaster at this time was Mr.
"I believe, Hanson," he said slowly, "I'd better get ... a little ... rest," and he slumped forward on the table in the death-like sleep of utter exhaustion. There the interesting part of the story ends. The rest is history, and there is too much dry history in the Universe already. Dival wrote three great volumes on L-472 or Ibit, as it is called now.
"Pray employ," answered he, "some miserable plundered soldier in that affair": "Quantumvis rusticus, ibit, Ibit eo, quo vis, qui zonam perdidit, inquit;" and flatly refused to go.
Tell a Greek who is dying of hunger to go to heaven and he will go Graeculus esuriens in coelum, jusseris, ibit." "But I do not see that you have started for heaven." A smile of derision, accompanied by a grimace, crossed Caffies face.
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