C’est moi, c’est moi,’tis I,' I told him. It seemed appropriately melodramatic, though I didn’t know if he’d catch the reference. I shouldn’t have worried. Unexpectedly, he laughed. “Trust you to quote Lancelot rather than Guinevere.
C'est vrai. Voilá quelqu'un qui sent comme moi. (It is true. There is someone who feels as I do).
Musalia [Mudavadi] was created by [Daniel Toroitich arap] Moi and given his seat after his father's death since Musalia's was one of Moi's key men and a beneficiary of the grand corruption of the day. I am aware of this but I recognize that I cannot get perfect partners, and truly my friends; there is an election to be won.
Le moi est ha|«s sable. The self is hateful.
I am the State. [Fr. , L'etat c'est moi. ]
There's something about a parenthesis in fiction that puts one off, saying, "It's me, moi, jumping in now. "
Global warming is already acting upon us with an accelerated feedback and compounded effect that may be irreversible! We do not have eons or centuries or many decades. Most of us alive today may not even have the luxury of saying 'Après moi, le déluge' because we will be around to experience it ourselves. And if you think it will be 'interesting' or 'exciting,' ask the tsunami survivors if that's how they felt. This time the plutocratic drive to 'accumulate, accumulate, accumulate' may take all of us down, once and forever.
You're up to something," I said. He turned, eyes wide, long fingers pressed to his heart. "Moi?" "Yeah, you.
Who's got two thumbs, speaks limited French and hasn't cried once today? This moi.
Be curious. Be daring. Be different. Be yourself. And, if that doesn't work, be moi!
