In all modesty, my impressions of Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Alex Guinness incarnation) are achievements of glory and majesty. The trouble is that the Bomber is forever insisting I perform them for his mates.
There number of time you can enjoy reciting:
as a performing flea at the behest of pre-teens is limited.
In future I shall console myself with Sartre Wars.
There number of time you can enjoy reciting:
Ready are you? What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained ...
as a performing flea at the behest of pre-teens is limited.
In future I shall console myself with Sartre Wars.
(The above recovered via Google Buzz from the great Blogger meltdown.
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