Author: Julia (---.zone129.zaural.ru)
Date: 01-02-06 14:06
The former post was off topic and was removed as it was a violation of our
Great Books spirit.
These forums are being phased out & replaced. Join us at our new
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Please respect that these are Great Books sites. We far prefer
discussions along the following
A thing of beauty is a joy forever,
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear\'d womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb,
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother\'s glass and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime;
So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remember\'d not to be,
Die single and thine image dies with thee.
Love, and do what you like.
I don\'t believe one grows older. I think that what happens early on in life is that at a certain age one stands still and
T. S. Eliot