Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion.
I think of those who were truly great. The names of those who in their lives fought for life, Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Memory exercised in a particular way is a natural gift of poetic genius. The poet above all else, is a person who never forgets certain sense impressions which he has experienced and which he can relive again as though with all their original freshness.
What is precious is never to forget The delight of the blood drawn from ancient springs Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth ; Never to deny its pleasure in the simple morning light, Nor its grave evening demand for love; Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.
Under the olive trees, from the ground Grows this flower, which is a wound. It is easier to ignore Than the heroes' sunset fire Of death plunged in their willed desire Raging with flags on the world's shore.
To break out of the chaos of my darkness Into a lucid day is all my will. My words like eyes in night, stare to reach A centre for their light: and my acts thrown To distant places by impatient violence Yet lock together to mould a path of stone Out of my darkness into a lucid day.
Religion stands, the Church blocking the sun.
The only good Rook is a working Rook!
If you play it safe, middle of the road with all the right notes, you might win. If you are unique and have too much personality, you might easily score a '0' in competition.
Solitude is sometimes the best society.
Lack of time is a real health killer.