pull down to refresh
Our quaint metaphysical opinions, in an hour of anguish, are like playthings by the bedside of a child deadly sick.
-----Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Coleridge's Notebooks: A Selection
Living toys are something novel,
But it soon wears off somehow.
---Philip Larkin
. . . obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame,
A mechanized automaton.
----Percy Bysshe Shelley
Toleration is a herb of spontaneous growth in the Soil of Indifference; but the weed has none of the virtues of the medicinal plant, reared by Humility in the Garden of Zeal.
----Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Our own heart, and not other men's opinions, forms our true honor.
---Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Life is but a day; A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way From a tree's summit.
---John Keats
***What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.***
---Philip Larkin, Collected Poems
Freely we serve
Because we freely love, as in our will
To love or not; in this we stand or fall.
---John Milton