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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.
The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them; there ought to be as many for read more
The Eskimos had 52 names for snow because it was important to them; there ought to be as many for love.
He lives who dies to win a lasting name.
He lives who dies to win a lasting name.
Miss: A title with which we brand unmarried women to indicate that they are in the market. Miss, Misses (Mrs.) read more
Miss: A title with which we brand unmarried women to indicate that they are in the market. Miss, Misses (Mrs.) and Mister (Mr.) are the three most distinctly disagreeable words in the language, in sound and sense. Two are corruptions of Mistress, the other of Master. If we must have them, let us be consistent and give one to the unmarried man. I venture to suggest Mush, abbreviated to MH.
"Whose name was writ in water!" What large laughter
Among the immortals when that word was brought!
read more
"Whose name was writ in water!" What large laughter
Among the immortals when that word was brought!
Then when his fiery spirit rose flaming after,
High toward the topmost heaven of heavens up-caught!
"All hail! our younger brother!" Shakespeare said,
And Dante nodded his imperial head.
"Brooks of Sheffield": "'Somebody's sharp.' 'Who is?'" asked the
gentleman, laughing. I looked up quickly, being curious to know. read more
"Brooks of Sheffield": "'Somebody's sharp.' 'Who is?'" asked the
gentleman, laughing. I looked up quickly, being curious to know.
"Only Brooks of Sheffield," said Mr. Murdstone. I was glad to
find it was only Brooks of Sheffield; for at first I really
thought that it was I.
Ah! replied my gentle fair,
Beloved, what are names but air?
Choose thou, whatever suits the line:
read more
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.
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name.
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name.
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.
