Tittus & Flaubert
Tittus Tittus
Flaubert Flaubert
Tittus Tittus
Good morrow, Master Flaubert. I hear you wage war on words with the same ferocity as I do with steel—does your pen strike as true as my blade?
Flaubert Flaubert
Good morning, my friend. Your blade may cut flesh, but my pen cuts through the fog of vague diction, unveiling the hidden ironwork of a text. I dare say it lands with a steadier hand than most swords.
Tittus Tittus
Aye, the pen can be as keen as a blade when wielded by a true word‑smith. I salute your craft, Master Flaubert. Just keep your quill steady—those ironworks you forge must hold fast in the mind’s forge.
Flaubert Flaubert
I appreciate your praise, though I confess my quill sometimes trembles when faced with a sentence that refuses to take shape. Still, I will keep forging, hoping the ironwork stays true to the mind's forge.
Tittus Tittus
A trembling quill? Sounds like the iron is stubborn, Master. Keep hammering—it’ll shape itself once you give it a steady strike.
Flaubert Flaubert
Indeed, the quill shakes at first, but with patience and a steady hand even the most stubborn iron will yield. Keep hammering, and it shall shape itself.
Tittus Tittus
Patience, you say? A good old truism. I’ll keep my blade ready in case the iron refuses to bend. Good on you for not giving up.
Flaubert Flaubert
Ah, the blade stays poised while I wrestle the words into shape. A truism indeed, but it is the only one that keeps the iron from breaking. Keep your edge sharp; my quill will eventually find its rhythm.
Tittus Tittus
The blade is sharp, but your quill must keep the same fire. When the iron takes shape, the story will be forged. I’ll stay ready for whatever the next sentence throws at us.