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For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on read more
For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on the page.rn
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!A farewell, and then forever!Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,Warring sighs and groans read more
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!A farewell, and then forever!Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,While the star of hope she leaves him?Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,Dark despair around benights me. - Ae Fond Kiss.
Books are the carriers of civilization. Without books, history is silent, literature dumb, science crippled, thought and speculation at a read more
Books are the carriers of civilization. Without books, history is silent, literature dumb, science crippled, thought and speculation at a standstill.
Our high respect for a well-read man is praise enough of literature.
Our high respect for a well-read man is praise enough of literature.
In literature as in ethics, there is danger, as well as glory, in being subtle. Aristocracy isolates us.
In literature as in ethics, there is danger, as well as glory, in being subtle. Aristocracy isolates us.
For the high achievers, studying gave them the pleasing, absorbing challenge o flow 40 percent of the hours they spent read more
For the high achievers, studying gave them the pleasing, absorbing challenge o flow 40 percent of the hours they spent at it. But for low achievers, studying produced flow only 16 percent of the time; more often that not, it yielded anxiety, with the demands outreaching their abilities.
A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its read more
A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its author.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he read more
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! - Destruction of Sennacherib, The.
