Death of the Author

333DeathoftheAuthor

“The author is dead.”

– The critic

“The critic is dead.”

– The author

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3 thoughts on “Death of the Author

  1. …er…sorry about this, but I couldn’t resist…

    “Alas, poor Author! I knew him, Critic: a fellow
    of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
    borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
    abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
    it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
    not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
    gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
    that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
    now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
    Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let
    her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
    come; make her laugh at that.”

  2. Pingback: Stop That Girl! | Thily Fin

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