Poets by Death are conquer'd but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.
And all the way, to guide their chime, With falling oars they kept their time.
But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near.
Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.
The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.
Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime.
How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays; And their uncessant labours see Crown'd from some single herb or tree. Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow'rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose.
Fahlberg is a scoundrel. It nauseates me to hear my name mentioned in the same breath with him.
Laugh till you weep. Weep till there's nothing left but to laugh at your weeping. In the end it's all one.
I started The Body Shop in 1976 simply to create a livelihood for myself and my two daughters, while my husband, Gordon, was trekking across the Americas. I had no training or experience and my only business acumen was Gordon's advice to take sales of £300 a week. Nobody talks of entrepreneurship as survival, but that's exactly what it is and what nurtures creative thinking.
As to the book called the bible, it is blasphemy to call it the Word of God. It is a book of lies and contradictions and a history of bad times and bad men.