I made a compact with myself that in my person literature should
stand by itself, of itself, and for read more

I made a compact with myself that in my person literature should
stand by itself, of itself, and for itself.

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.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.

Yet ah! why should they know their fate?Since sorrow never comes too late,And happiness too swiftly flies.Thought would destroy their read more

Yet ah! why should they know their fate?Since sorrow never comes too late,And happiness too swiftly flies.Thought would destroy their paradise.No more; where ignorance is bliss,'Tis folly to be wise. - Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College.

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.

The average Ph.D thesis is nothing but the transference of bones from one graveyard to another.

The average Ph.D thesis is nothing but the transference of bones from one graveyard to another.

Learning why one great book is just like every other great book is the key to understanding literature

Learning why one great book is just like every other great book is the key to understanding literature

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.

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be grasped at once.

Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be grasped at once.