Subject: on a erratum

From: "Edmond Hyde" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 24 Nov 2006 22:46:56 +0100

Many a true word is spoken in jest William Shakespeare There's no accounting for taste Common sense to a limit is Natural; But more of it is Genius He who last, lasts, laughs last
We are all in this together Hawks will not pick out hawks' eyes Going the whole nine yards
Scratch a Russian and you will find a Tartar Those who play bowls must look out for rubbers Fool me once, shame on you Fool me twice, shame on me Butter is gold in the morning, silver at noon, lead at night
Possible Interpretation: Good at everything, excellent at nothing All hat and no cattle You must never confuse your feelings with your duties Where there's a will, there's a relative ! Desperate times call for desperate measures Don't bite the hand that feeds you
It ain't over till the fat lady sings You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear Whom we love best, to them we can say the least Practice makes perfect
Possible Interpretation: Everybody needs other people Possible Interpretation: Great achivements take time Alternate: The last chance Long experience of someone or something can make one so aware of the faults as to be scornful Many a true word is spoken in jest