A Word To The Whys (was Re: on this date: "hush! caution! echoland!")

[Suzy Creamcheese]

You gave me a boot (signs on it!) and I ate the wind. I quizzed you a quid
(with for what?) and you went to the quod. But the world, mind, is, was and
will be writing its own wrunes for ever, man, on all matters that fall under
the ban of our infrarational senses fore the last milchcamel, the heartvein
throbbing between his eyebrowns, has still to moor before the tomb of his
cousin charmian where his date is tethered by the palm that's hers. But the
horn, the drinking, the day of dread are not now. [. . .] So you need hardly
spell me how every word will be bound over to carry three score and ten
toptypsical readings throughout the book of Doublends Jined (may his
forehead be darkened with mud who would sunder!) till Daleth, mahomahouma,
who oped it closeth thereof the. Dor.

(Finnegans Wake, pp. 19-20, Penguin pb)