Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked read more

Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked himself in an ivory tower to work without the influences of man and desire. - Pensees d'Aout.

Literature for me isn't a workaday job, but something which involves desires, dreams and fantasy.

Literature for me isn't a workaday job, but something which involves desires, dreams and fantasy.

The writer in western civilization has become not a voice of his tribe, but of his individuality. This is a read more

The writer in western civilization has become not a voice of his tribe, but of his individuality. This is a very narrow-minded situation.

For whatever is truly wondrous and fearful in man, never yet was put into words or books.

For whatever is truly wondrous and fearful in man, never yet was put into words or books.

The advantage of a classical education is that it enables you to despise the wealth which it prevents you from read more

The advantage of a classical education is that it enables you to despise the wealth which it prevents you from achieving.

But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be read more

But wherefore thou alone? Wherefore with theeCame not all hell broke loose? Is pain to themLess pain, less to be fled, or thou than theyLess hardy to endure? Courageous chief,The first in flight from pain, hadst thou allegedTo thy deserted host this cause of flight,Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive. - Paradise Lost.

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While read more

The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other down;The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please;These were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled. - Deserted Village, The.