without missing an atom

“There’s the tail to be skinned yet,” said Sancho; “all so far is cakes and fancy bread; but if your worship wants to know all about the calumnies they bring against you, I will fetch you one this instant who can tell you the whole of them without missing an atom; for last night the son of Bartholomew Carrasco, who has been studying at Salamanca, came home after having been made a bachelor, and when I went to welcome him, he told me that your worship’s history is already abroad in books, with the title of THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA; and he says they mention me in it by my own name of Sancho Panza, and the lady Dulcinea del Toboso too, and divers things that happened to us when we were alone; so that I crossed myself in my wonder how the historian who wrote them down could have known them.”

Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote

calumniated by malice

“Recollect, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “that wherever virtue exists in an eminent degree it is persecuted. Few or none of the famous men that have lived escaped being calumniated by malice. Julius Caesar, the boldest, wisest, and bravest of captains, was charged with being ambitious, and not particularly cleanly in his dress, or pure in his morals. Of Alexander, whose deeds won him the name of Great, they say that he was somewhat of a drunkard. Of Hercules, him of the many labours, it is said that he was lewd and luxurious. Of Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul, it was whispered that he was over quarrelsome, and of his brother that he was lachrymose. So that, O Sancho, amongst all these calumnies against good men, mine may be let pass, since they are no more than thou hast said.”

Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote

blues and greys

Leaning back and closing her eyes, Mary submitted to the bright sunlight, feeling the heat tickle her rosy cheeks. She pushed her tussled hair back, away from her face. Rich blues and greys mingled under her eyelids as she smiled at the scent of a rich spring breath. “Hello,” a deep voice spoke. Mary opened her eyes, startled and sat up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Mary turned to look at the man, leaning over her short white fence.

David Cain, Flowers of Malinov

When in doubt, read fiction

Silver sat down beside me with a laugh, glitter on the mattress, glitter on the highway, I’ve been running down this dusty road. Some singers simply mumble through, I can feel them fade out again. She says she loves me, yes she does. It’s raining in the park but meantime. When in doubt, read fiction. We can go where we want to, leave your friends behind, I’m going to treat her kind.

David Cain, Song of Songs