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The former post was removed as it violated our user agreement, or it did not add to the "Great Books" conversation in a constructive manner.

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We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:

LIII

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one, hath every one, one shade,
And you but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new: 
Speak of the spring, and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
  In all external grace you have some part,
  But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
 	--William Shakespeare

LXXXI

Or I shall live your epitaph to make,
Or you survive when I in earth am rotten;
From hence your memory death cannot take,
Although in me each part will be forgotten.
Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die:
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read;
And tongues to be, your being shall rehearse,
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
  You still shall live,--such virtue hath my pen,--
  Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
 	--William Shakespeare

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When we build, let us think that we build forever. -John Ruskin, The Seven Lamps of Architecture, 1849

All The Best,

William Einstein Shakespeare :)

I never can feel certain of any truth but from a clear perception of its Beauty. -John Keats