As the end of the century approaches, all our culture is like the culture of flies at the beginning of winter. Having lost their a...gility, dreamy and demented, they turn slowly about the window in the first icy mists of morning. They give themselves a last wash and brush-up, their ocellated eyes roll, and they fall down the curtains.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and ...sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords, Lords without anger and honour, who dare not carry their swords.... They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes; They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Alas for the cripple Practice when it seeks to come up with the bird Theory, which flies before it. Try your design on the best sc...hool. The scholars are of all ages and temperaments and capacities. It is difficult to class them, some are too young, some are slow, some perverse. Each requires so much consideration, that the morning hope of the teacher, of a day of love and progress, is often closed at evening by despair.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Follow a shaddow, it still flies you; Seeme to flye it, it will pursue:... So court a mistris, shee denyes you; Let her alone, shee will court you. Say, are not women truely, then, Stil'd but the shaddowes of us men? At morne, and even, shades are longest; At noone, they are or short, or none: So men at weakest, they are strongest, But grant us perfect, they're not knowne. Say, are not women truely, then, Stil'd but the shaddowes of us men?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent, Saying, "Behold one outcast and in dread,... Against whose life the bow of power is bent, Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head; I come to thee for shelter and for food, To Yussouf, called through all our tribes 'he Good.' "
"This tent is mine," said Yussouf, "but no more Than it is God's; come in, and be at peace;LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
There was never a revolution to equal it, and never a city more glorious than Petrograd, and for all that period of my life I live...d another and braved the ice of winter and the summer flies in Vyborg while across my adopted country of the past, winds of the revolution blew their flame, and all of us suffered hunger while we drank at the wine of equality.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »