Author: NordicKnight (---.16.144.59.touchtelindia.net)
Date: 11-22-05 02:43
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
No longer shall I paint interiors with men reading and women
knitting. I will paint living people who breather and feel and suffer and
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength\'s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love\'s rite,
And in mine own love\'s strength seem to decay,
O\'ercharg\'d with burthen of mine own love\'s might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express\'d.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love\'s fine wit.
While I take inspiration from the past, like most Americans, I live for
To sit back hoping that someday, some way, someone will make things right
is to go on feeding the crocodile, hoping he will eat you last - but eat
you he will.