Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies. Thy two brea...sts are like two young roes that are twins. Thy neck is like a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus. Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king is held in the galleries. How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The best hopes of any community rest upon that class of its gifted young men who are not encumbered with large possessions.... I n...ow speak of extensive scholarship and ripe culture in science and art.... It is not large possessions, it is large expectations, or rather large hopes, that stimulate the ambition of the young.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Real orgies are never so exciting as pornographic books. In a volume by Pierre Louys all the girls are young and their figures per...fect; there's no hiccoughing or bad breath, no fatigue or boredom, no sudden recollections of unpaid bills or business letters unanswered, to interrupt the raptures. Art gives you the sensation, the thought, the feeling quite pure--chemically pure, I mean,... not morally.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The well-educated young woman of 1950 will blend art and sciences in a way we do not dream of; the science will steady the art and... the art will give charm to the science. This young woman will marry--yes, indeed, but she will take her pick of men, who will by that time have begun to realize what sort of men it behooves them to be.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages;... Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat, To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee and come to dust.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »