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 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.

University politics are vicious precisely because the stakes are so small.

University politics are vicious precisely because the stakes are so small.

Housework is a breeze. Cooking is a pleasant diversion. Putting up a retaining wall is a lark. But teaching is read more

Housework is a breeze. Cooking is a pleasant diversion. Putting up a retaining wall is a lark. But teaching is like climbing a mountain.

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

You are educated when you have the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or self-confidence.

You are educated when you have the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or self-confidence.

Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked read more

Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked himself in an ivory tower to work without the influences of man and desire. - Pensees d'Aout.

Five miles meandering with mazy motion, Through dale the sacred
river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, read more

Five miles meandering with mazy motion, Through dale the sacred
river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank
the tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard
from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.

Our poetry in the eighteenth century was prose; our prose in the
seventeenth, poetry.