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.

Literature is the orchestration of platitudes.

Literature is the orchestration of platitudes.

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.

This book fills a much-needed gap.

This book fills a much-needed gap.

All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain
called "Huckleberry Finn."

All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain
called "Huckleberry Finn."

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the read more

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote.

The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive read more

The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive medicine.

If the radiance of a thousand sunsWere to burst at once into the skyThat would be like the splendor of read more

If the radiance of a thousand sunsWere to burst at once into the skyThat would be like the splendor of the Mighty one --I am become Death,The shatterer of Worlds. - Bhagavad Gita.

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, read more

Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.