Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.dsl.chcgil.ameritech.net)
Date: 11-08-05 15:42
The former post was removed as it was off topic. We will be migrating to registration-only forums at jollyrogerwest.com Great Books forums and booksliterature.com Great Books forums. These are Great Books sites, and we prefer posts such as:
I don't believe in pessimism. If something doesn't come up the way you
want, forge ahead. If you think it's going to rain, it will.
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head;
Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, itself and true,
Making no summer of another's green,
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
The beautiful rests on the foundations of the necessary.
I couldn't help but say to Mr. Gorbachev just think how easy his task and
mine might be in these meetings that we held if suddenly there was a
threat to this world from another planet. We'd find out once and for all
that we really are all human beings here on this earth together.