rock salt, pie & winchesters. (___confused) wrote,
rock salt, pie & winchesters.
___confused

...

    Guildenstern: A man, breaking his journey between one place and another, at a third place of no name, character, population, or significance sees a unicorn cross his path and disappear. That in itself is startling, but there are precedents for this sort of mystical encounter, or rather, a choice of persuasions to put it down to fancy, until — "My god!" shouts a second man, "I must be dreaming! I thought I just saw a unicorn!" At which point a dimension is added which makes the experience as alarming as it will ever be. A third witness, you understand, adds no new dimension, only spreads it thinner, and a forth thinner still, and the more witnesses there are the thinner it spreads and the more reasonable it becomes until it is as thin as reality — the name we give to the common experience. "Look! Look!" recites the crowd, "A horse, with an arrow in its forehead! It must have been mistaken for a deer!"

    Rosencrantz: I knew all along it was a band.

    Guildenstern: He knew all along it was a band.

    Rosencrantz: And here they come!

    Guildenstern: I'm sorry it wasn't a unicorn. It would have been nice to have unicorns.
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