He was also finding it hard to accustom himself to traditional English cooking, although it was two weeks before he confessed to hating cold roast beef. Beef–preferably in the form of an entrecôte steak–had to be thick, blue, and hot before he would eat it; when it arrived he would slice off a piece to see if it was rare enough, then test the temperature with his tongue–sometimes even his cheek. Only steak, he believed, could give him the extra stamina he needed onstage, and when Margot took him to meet her mother for the first time, they heard him mutter disapprovingly when the food appeared, “Chicken dinner, chicken performance.”

Julie Kavanagh, Nureyev: The Life (215).

But once the Dane had had his whiskey, and the Russian his vodka, it didn’t take much to set them off.

Rosella Hightower, on the volatile relationship between Nureyev and Erik Bruhn (Kavanagh 198).

But, please. Blogs: stop posting the same damn kinds of work over and over. No more fake movie posters, faux book covers, posting half-assed design work just because it’s letterpressed, novel ad campaigns or animated gifs. Delete any post tagged with cute.

Frank Chimero, Your blog sucks. And your work. And probably mine too.

He has a lot more to say on the state of design blogs, in response to The Vacuum of Enthusiasm by Alexandra Lange. But this plea is a familiar one in my head.