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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
English literature is a kind of training in social ethics. English trains you to handle a body of information in read more
English literature is a kind of training in social ethics. English trains you to handle a body of information in a way that is conducive to action.
And He shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, read more
And He shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. - Isaiah 2:4.
Beauty is but a flower,Which wrinkles will devour;Brightness falls from the air;Queens have died young and fair;Dust hath closed Helen's read more
Beauty is but a flower,Which wrinkles will devour;Brightness falls from the air;Queens have died young and fair;Dust hath closed Helen's eye.I am sick, I must die;Lord have mercy on us. - Song in Time of Pestilence.
There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.
There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.
First he wrought, and afterward he taught.
First he wrought, and afterward he taught.
If thou shouldst never see my face again,Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams read more
If thou shouldst never see my face again,Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams of. - The Passing of Arthur.
A poet is someone who is astonished by everything.
A poet is someone who is astonished by everything.
Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to read more
Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to Hell; the door of dark Dis stands open day and night. But to retrace your steps and come out to the air above, that is work, that is labor! - Aeneid, The.