Due to spam and off-topic content, these forums are being phased out and replaced with new great books forums. Please join us! Ahoy fellow book lovers!
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.
The new Science and Religion Forum may be found at http://killdevilhill.com/srchat/wwwboard.html .
To foster quality discussion forums, from now on only registered members may post. Spam will not be tolerated. If you would like to help moderate, please contact "jolly roger ship @ yahoo . com".
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We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:
Any extraordinary degree of beauty in man or woman involves a moral charm. -Emerson, Worship
CXXI 'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd, When not to be receives reproach of being; And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing: For why should others' false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which in their wills count bad what I think good? No, I am that I am, and they that level At my abuses reckon up their own: I may be straight though they themselves be bevel; By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown; Unless this general evil they maintain, All men are bad and in their badness reign. --William Shakespeare
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation.
In the future, please register and make all posts to http://jollyrogerwest.com,
and/or join the forums at Great Books & Philosophy Forums @ jollyroger.com/greatbooksforums.
LVII Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend; Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour, Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour, When you have bid your servant once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are, how happy you make those. So true a fool is love, that in your will, Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. --William Shakespeare
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
O heart, we are old; The living beauty is for younger men: We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears. -Yeats, W.B., 1918