Most certainly. The random quoting & paraphrasing entrenched itself in my vernacular too long ago to worry about now...

The great-unfinished novel was co-authored with a friend who was as bad, if not worse, than me... so the book is "... A thing of shreds and patches. Of ballads, songs and snatches. And dreamy lullaby."

Well, maybe not so much of the lullaby part...

Damn... now 'Beauty In The Bellow Of The Blast' is stuck in my head!!