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 Used Books Forum may be found at http://killdevilhill.com/usedbookschat/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:

My gaze on Beatrice, hers on Heaven, In less time than an arrow strikes the mark, Flies through the air, loosed from its catch, I found myself in some place where a wondrous thing. Absorbed all of my mind, and then my lady, From whom I could not keep my thirst to know, turned toward me as joyful as her beauty: Direct your mind and gratitude, she said, To God, who raised us up to His first star. -Dante, The Divine Comedy: Paradise

Sometimes one pays most for the things one gets for nothing. --Albert Einstein

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.

A person starts to live when he can live outside himself. --Albert Einstein

All The Best,

William Einstein Shakespeare :)

LXX

That thou art blam'd shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater being woo'd of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.
Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days
Either not assail'd, or victor being charg'd;
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy, evermore enlarg'd,
  If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show,
  Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.
 	--William Shakespeare