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Draw a crazy picture,Write a nutty poem,Sing a mumble-gumble song,Whistle through your comb.Do a loony-goony dance'Cross the kitchen floor,Put something read more
Draw a crazy picture,Write a nutty poem,Sing a mumble-gumble song,Whistle through your comb.Do a loony-goony dance'Cross the kitchen floor,Put something silly in the worldThat ain't been there before.
The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean
The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean
First he wrought, and afterward he taught.
First he wrought, and afterward he taught.
A poet is someone who is astonished by everything.
A poet is someone who is astonished by everything.
Literature is the orchestration of platitudes.
Literature is the orchestration of platitudes.
At last is Hector stretch'd upon the plain,Who fear'd no vengeance for Patroclus slain:Then, Prince! You should have fear'd, what read more
At last is Hector stretch'd upon the plain,Who fear'd no vengeance for Patroclus slain:Then, Prince! You should have fear'd, what now you feel;Achilles absent was Achilles still:Yet a short space the great avenger stayed,Then low in dust thy strength and glory laid. - Iliad, The.
A university is what a college becomes when the faculty loses interest in students.
A university is what a college becomes when the faculty loses interest in students.
If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no read more
If a poet has any obligation toward society, it is to write well. Being in the minority, he has no other choice. Failing this duty, he sinks into oblivion. Society, on the other hand, has no obligation toward the poet. A majority by definition, society thinks of itself as having other options than reading verses, no matter how well written. Its failure to do so results in its sinking to that level of locution at which society falls easy prey to a demagogue or a tyrant. This is society's own equivalent of oblivion.
Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of read more
Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of stars! - Caliban in the Coal Mines.