On Thursday morning going through the quiet woods... it is not Thursday. To dwellers in a wood almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature. At the passing of the breeze the fir-trees sob and moan no less distinctly than they rock; the holly whistles as it battles with itself; the ash hisses amid its quiverings; the beech rustles while its flat boughs rise and fall. And winter, which modifies the note of such trees as shed their leaves, does not destroy its individuality.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Thoth, Hermes, the stylus, the palette, the pen, the quill endure,... though our books are a floor of smouldering ash under our feet.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken, I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,... And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Those who actually set out to see the fall of a city ... or those who choose to go to a front line, are obviously asking themselve...s to what extent they are cowards. But the tests they set themselves--there is a dead body, can you bear to look at it?--are nothing in comparison with the tests that are sprung on them. It is not the obvious tests that matter (do you go to pieces in a mortar attack?) but the unexpected ones (here is a man on the run, seeking your help--can you face him honestly?).LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
As easy mayst thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulf,... And take unmingled thence that drop again, Without addition or diminishing, As take from me thyself and not me too.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Here did she fall a tear. Here in this place I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb-of-grace.... Rue even for ruth here shortly shall be seen In the remembrance of a weeping queen.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »