For last night, last night, the moon shone bright
Nothing to see here; move along, unless you're in a mood for memes.
schreibergasse tagged me for this one:
Instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.
Not only was there nothing going on in the hotel, there was nothing going on in the world, either, and this impression was strengthened by Mrs. Pope Graham, the proprietor, a major's widow with a terribly languorous voice that imparted a sense of deep fatigue to Mr. Barraclough or anyone else who sought her hospitality. Inspector Mendel, whose informant she had been for many years, insisted that her name was plain Graham. The Pope had been added for grandeur or out of deference to Rome.
"Your father wasn't a Green Jacket, was he, dear?" she enquired, with a yawn, as she read Barraclough in the register. Smiley paid her fifty pounds' advance for a two-week stay, and she gave him Room 8 because he wanted to work.
—John le Carré, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1974)
If you've been tagged for this already, ignore me:
gaudior,
sosostris2012,
fleurdelis28,
lesser_celery,
greygirlbeast.
And now I need to shelve a lot of books.
Instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.
Not only was there nothing going on in the hotel, there was nothing going on in the world, either, and this impression was strengthened by Mrs. Pope Graham, the proprietor, a major's widow with a terribly languorous voice that imparted a sense of deep fatigue to Mr. Barraclough or anyone else who sought her hospitality. Inspector Mendel, whose informant she had been for many years, insisted that her name was plain Graham. The Pope had been added for grandeur or out of deference to Rome.
"Your father wasn't a Green Jacket, was he, dear?" she enquired, with a yawn, as she read Barraclough in the register. Smiley paid her fifty pounds' advance for a two-week stay, and she gave him Room 8 because he wanted to work.
—John le Carré, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1974)
If you've been tagged for this already, ignore me:
And now I need to shelve a lot of books.

no subject
But not when your name is Evariste Galois. His mathematical brilliance caused him to so exceed the requirements of his first entrance exam to college that his mystified examiners failed him; on his second and final opportunity to take the exam, he sensed another failure before him and sealed the deal by hurling an eraser at one of his examiners. Nonetheless, by the age of 19, he had invented modern algebra and hastened to write it all down the night before he was killed in duel that was a result of political misalignment and being romantically entangled with a woman who was romantically entangled with another much more powerful man.
no subject
That is marvelous. Well, all right, not the getting shot and dying at the age of nineteen bit. But the brilliance and the eraser, yes. Thank you.