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We read poetry because the poets, like ourselves, have been haunted by the inescapable tyranny of time and death; have read more
We read poetry because the poets, like ourselves, have been haunted by the inescapable tyranny of time and death; have suffered the pain of loss, and the more wearing, continuous pain of frustration and failure; and have had moods of unlooked-for release and peace. They have known and watched in themselves and others.
They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their read more
They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their own lean volumes.
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.
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.
Literature is a power to be possessed, not a body of objects to be studied.
Literature is a power to be possessed, not a body of objects to be studied.
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.
When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf read more
When the waves are round me breaking,As I pace the deck alone,And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon;What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder,Isle of Beauty, fare thee well! - Paradise Lost.
Arrogance, pedantry, and dogmatism... the occupational diseases of those who spend their lives directing the intellects of the young.
Arrogance, pedantry, and dogmatism... the occupational diseases of those who spend their lives directing the intellects of the young.
