There were thoughts Jack shared with no one And this is so much of the man, he would refuse to divulge anything to others, keeping his special thoughts to himself.
Well, well, carrots ran out, time for a stick. There was as much reverence, Jack thought, as mercy in the last words of a death sentence read at a gallows. Clever lad and clever author for putting this thought out this way. Yep, done well and well done.
Not a stick, but more like something sharp or red-hot. He's so aware of the balance of power, the way of men's politics.
flood of eloquence disguised the lack of any concrete information
...entire message seemed to be a signature, clear to the aware, and enigmatic for others Very beautifully written intricate pivot point of the story, an unsigned letter that tells all by the absence of telling. How fine to provide a picture of negative space.
world shouldn’t be made up of nothing but questions without answers, Jack thought bitterly Jack doesn't seem to get caught up in what he can't very much. One of the things about his nature that is so very appealing and somewhat mystifying when you think about it.
For all – a tall story about ghosts. For Jack – an eternal dream, more real than the reality around him.
He always knew where she was. He never knew how to reach her. She always was there, more firm than the land underfoot, more unattainable than the clouds above head. I have read many lines about the relationship between Jack and Pearl. I've written a few that I wouldn't just toss in the garbage, but 'cakes, this bit is just dropdeaddogultimo fine as frog hair! 'Bout breaks my heart in two big old yearning pieces. To be so aware of another and so very far away from that goal...man just guts you. More real than reality...now that is just the hard hard truth of it all. Pretty words my dear, pretty and painful and so true of the Cap'n's love for his ship.
Even her planking seemed to curve in a similar sneer. Jack glared at the impudent boat, and then Anamaria. Goodness, I laughed so hard over this--truer words, Jack is definitely more than a little cat being. I can just see this glare--and him all stiff with his indignation
“Curiosity stirs at why your curiosity stirs at why I’m carryin’ it, though the last one whose curiosity stirred lost his life, as you know well, eh?” Doncha just love Jack-speak? He's a helluva deal if you can follow any part of what it is he is or isn't actually saying! I'm amazed at how you have channeled his story--oh dear one, wish I had a brain, a fanciful brain that would create such delight.
Anamaria looked like a cat which spotted a mouse. Or a sparrow.
“Whatever, eh?”Well, here's truth--I'm besotted with your story. Reminds me of the joke, handsome man says I'll do anything for 20$--the beautiful woman says fine paint my house! This is so charming like the story itself and the old stories in BPS--Jack's humor and his acceptance of what is given to him in life. Ohmyword, I'm in love!
You got some fine language on you, ladybug, some beautiful pictures of a very familiar love--like looking at old photographs of your mama and daddy, you know they loved each other, fell in love, whatknot, but then you see the photos and you see them like you've never seen them before and they are soooo young and so innocent and so ready for the rest of their lives. That's how this bit of Jack is for me.
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Well, well, carrots ran out, time for a stick. There was as much reverence, Jack thought, as mercy in the last words of a death sentence read at a gallows. Clever lad and clever author for putting this thought out this way. Yep, done well and well done.
Not a stick, but more like something sharp or red-hot. He's so aware of the balance of power, the way of men's politics.
flood of eloquence disguised the lack of any concrete information
...entire message seemed to be a signature, clear to the aware, and enigmatic for others Very beautifully written intricate pivot point of the story, an unsigned letter that tells all by the absence of telling. How fine to provide a picture of negative space.
world shouldn’t be made up of nothing but questions without answers, Jack thought bitterly Jack doesn't seem to get caught up in what he can't very much. One of the things about his nature that is so very appealing and somewhat mystifying when you think about it.
For all – a tall story about ghosts. For Jack – an eternal dream, more real than the reality around him.
He always knew where she was. He never knew how to reach her. She always was there, more firm than the land underfoot, more unattainable than the clouds above head. I have read many lines about the relationship between Jack and Pearl. I've written a few that I wouldn't just toss in the garbage, but 'cakes, this bit is just dropdeaddogultimo fine as frog hair! 'Bout breaks my heart in two big old yearning pieces. To be so aware of another and so very far away from that goal...man just guts you. More real than reality...now that is just the hard hard truth of it all. Pretty words my dear, pretty and painful and so true of the Cap'n's love for his ship.
Even her planking seemed to curve in a similar sneer. Jack glared at the impudent boat, and then Anamaria. Goodness, I laughed so hard over this--truer words, Jack is definitely more than a little cat being. I can just see this glare--and him all stiff with his indignation
“Curiosity stirs at why your curiosity stirs at why I’m carryin’ it, though the last one whose curiosity stirred lost his life, as you know well, eh?”
Doncha just love Jack-speak? He's a helluva deal if you can follow any part of what it is he is or isn't actually saying! I'm amazed at how you have channeled his story--oh dear one, wish I had a brain, a fanciful brain that would create such delight.
Anamaria looked like a cat which spotted a mouse. Or a sparrow.
“Whatever, eh?”Well, here's truth--I'm besotted with your story. Reminds me of the joke, handsome man says I'll do anything for 20$--the beautiful woman says fine paint my house! This is so charming like the story itself and the old stories in BPS--Jack's humor and his acceptance of what is given to him in life. Ohmyword, I'm in love!
You got some fine language on you, ladybug, some beautiful pictures of a very familiar love--like looking at old photographs of your mama and daddy, you know they loved each other, fell in love, whatknot, but then you see the photos and you see them like you've never seen them before and they are soooo young and so innocent and so ready for the rest of their lives. That's how this bit of Jack is for me.