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Old age is . . . a lot of crossed off names in an address book.
Old age is . . . a lot of crossed off names in an address book.
The dodgerest of all the dodgers.
The dodgerest of all the dodgers.
The blackest ink of fate are sure my lot,
And when fate writ my name it made a blot.
The blackest ink of fate are sure my lot,
And when fate writ my name it made a blot.
Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
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Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
Call me Sappho, call me Chloris,
Call me Lalage, or Doris,
Only, only, call me thine.
On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!
On, Amos Cottle!--Phoebus! what a name!
Proper names are poetry in the raw. Like all poetry they are untranslatable.
Proper names are poetry in the raw. Like all poetry they are untranslatable.
You should never name an animal which is not yours to keep, or which you intend to eat.
You should never name an animal which is not yours to keep, or which you intend to eat.
There be of them that have left a name behind them.
There be of them that have left a name behind them.
