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The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
---William Shakespeare, As You Like It
Datta, dayadhvam, damyata
(Give, sympathize, control)
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land and Other Poems
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People to whom nothing has ever happened cannot understand the unimportance of events.
T.S. Eliot
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There is no method but to be very intelligent.
T. S. Eliot
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I love reading another reader’s list of favorites. Even when I find I do not share their tastes or predilections, I am provoked to compare, contrast, and contradict. It is a most healthy exercise, and one altogether fruitful.
T.S. Eliot
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If time and space, as sages say,
Are things which cannot be,
The sun which does not feel decay
No greater is than we.
So why, Love, should we ever pray
To live a century?
The butterfly that lives a day
Has lived eternity.
T.S. Eliot
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The Pekes and the Pollicles, everyone knows,
Are proud and implacable, passionate foes;
It is always the same, wherever one goes.
And the Pugs and the Poms, although most people say
that they do not like fighting, will often display
Every symptom of wanting to join in the fray.
And they
Bark bark bark bark bark bark
Until you can hear them all over the park.
T.S. Eliot, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats
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He oft finds med'cine who his grief imparts
But double grief afflicts concealing harts
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead.
T.S. Eliot, The Sacred Wood
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Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium--
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--
''[kisses her]''
Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!--
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sack'd;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumed crest;
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
O, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appear'd to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
---Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus
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So long in secret cabin there he held
Her captive to his sensual desire
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
William Shakespeare, Coriolanus
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They cannot finde that path, which first was showne,
But wander too and fro in waies vnknowne . . .
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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If we say that we have no sin,
We deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us.
Why then belike we must sin,
And so consequently die.
Ay, we must die an everlasting death.
Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus
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Emongst the Roses grow some wicked weeds;
For this was not to love, but lust inclind;
For love does alwayes bring forth bounteous deeds,
And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds.
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Who is it that can tell me who I am?
William Shakespeare, King Lear
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Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone,
Whom if ye please, I care for other none.
Edmund Spenser, Amoretti
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I am Envy...I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.
Christopher Marlowe
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For louers heauen must passe by sorrowes hell.
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
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All this world's glory seemeth vain to me,
And all their shows but shadows, saving she.
Edmund Spenser, Amoretti
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You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,
And now and then stab, when occasion serves.
Christopher Marlowe
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Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe,
Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long,
Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe,
Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so strong,
And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,
Threatening to swallow vp my fearfull lyfe?
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another.
---Shakespeare, Hamlet
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. . my delight is all in ioyfulnesse . . .
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt; I am lean with seeing others eat - O that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone; then thou should'st see how fat I would be! But must thou sit and I stand? Come down, with a vengeance!
Christopher Marlowe, Doctor Faustus
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Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.
William Shakespeare, Othello
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Well warned to beware with whom he dar'd to dallie.
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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But what are kings, when regiment is gone,
But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
- Edward II, 5.1 Christopher Marlowe
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. . . his hand did quake,
And tremble like a leafe of Aspin greene,
And troubled blood through his pale face was seene
To come, and goe with tidings from the heart,
As it a ronning messenger had beene.
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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Thou mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms!
William Shakespeare
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Much like to the mole in Æsopes fable, that, being blynd her selfe, would in no wise be perswaded that any beast could see.
Edmund Spenser, Edmund Spenser
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All beasts are happy,
For, when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements;
But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell.
Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me!
No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer
That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven.
Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus
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There did I finde mine onely faithfull frend
In heauy plight and sad perplexitie;
Whereof I sorie, yet my selfe did bend,
Him to recomfort with my companie.
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
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His louely words her seemd due recompence
Of all her passed paines: one louing howre
For many yeares of sorrow can dispence:
A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre:
Shee has forgott, how many, a woeful stowre
For him she late endurd; she speakes no more
Of past . . .
Before her stands her knight, for whom she toyld so sore.
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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Where both deliberate, the love is slight; Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
Christopher Marlowe
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It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill,
That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore:
For some, that hath abundance at his will,
Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
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Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night
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O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.
William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream
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