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Updated: May 21, 2025
"For life, Monsieur? ah, I see! yes, you are right: it is full of life, vigor, intellect, science, absolutely crammed with science, well printed, clear type, well set up; what I call 'good nap. None of your botched stuff, cotton and wool, trumpery; flimsy rubbish that rips if you look at it.
I am one that cannot bear to see things botched or gone upon with ignorance; and the thought that some poor devil was to hazard his bones upon such premises revolted me. Had I guessed the name of that unhappy first adventurer, my sentiments might have been livelier still.
But diligently as Heneage had sought to the bottom of all things, he had not gained the approbation of Sidney. Sir Philip thought that the new man had only ill botched a piece of work that had been most awkwardly contrived from the beginning. "Sir Thomas Heneage," said he, "hath with as much honesty, in my opinion done as much hurt as any man this twelve-month hath done with naughtiness.
You can't scratch it with a diamond on its reasoning side I've scratched away on it until my nails are gone. "I've failed, I tell you, I've botched it all up! And just for want of money enough to buy an automobile! Brains never took a doctor anywhere nothing but money and bluff!"
The best face we can put on the matter is to say that all the Cyclic poets were recklessly independent of tradition, while all men who botched at the Iliad were very learned, and very careful to maintain harmony in their pictures of life and manners, except when they introduced changes in burial, bride-price, houses, iron, greaves, and corslets, all of them things, by the theory, modern, and when they sang in modern grammar.
Followed a period of intense depression when all things seemed to lose their savour and when Narkom, amazed, said to himself that the man had come to the end of his usefulness and had lost every attribute of the successful criminologist. For the next three cases he brought him Cleek botched in a manner that would have disgraced the merest tyro.
Good night, friend of my heart. I embrace you as well as your mother. G. Sand LXII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Paris Nohant, 6 August, 1867 When I see how hard my old friend has to work in order to write a novel, it discourages my facility, and I tell myself that I write BOTCHED literature. I have finished Cadio; it has been in Buloz' hands a long time.
I talked of you more or Jess as was natural...and he remembered...we had recalled the past vividly enough.... Why couldn't one of those instincts in which we are supposed to be prolific have warned me?....Much fiction is like life!...Any heroine I could have created would have had it...had more sense....I have botched the thing from beginning to end."
Nothing is more vexatious for a master than to come home in the evening tired or sleepy and find everything at sixes and sevens and his wife full of complaints; to see only half the work done that should have been accomplished, much of it botched and ruined, so that it had better have been let alone; and then into the bargain to hear his wife complain half the night how the servants had been unruly, had given impudent answers, and done just what they pleased, and how she hated to have it so and if he ever went away again she would run off too.
I cannot imagine a more afflicted man." Lady Mabel saw the sneer, but her betrothed calmly ignored it. "Of course it's a nuisance," he said carelessly; "but I had rather be my own clerk of the works than have the whole thing botched. I thought you were going to Wellbrook Abbey with the house party, Mabel?" "I know every stone of the Abbey by heart.
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