Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.spacegate.com.ua)
Date: 01-26-06 04:02
The former post was off topic and was thus removed as it was a violation of our
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Please respect that these are Great Books sites, and we prefer posts along the following
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
T. S. Eliot
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
But when your countenance fill\'d up his line,
Then lacked I matter; that enfeebled mine.
So long as they don\'t get violent, I want to let everyone say what they
wish, for I myself have always said exactly what pleased me. -- Albert
No, this trick won\'t work...How on earth are you ever going to explain
in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as
first love? --Albert Einstein