miðvikudagur, desember 19, 2007


Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
-The Stolen Child

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
-In Memoriam
Lord Tennyson

Be near me when my light is low,
When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick
And tingle; and the heart is sick,
And all the wheels of being slow.

Be near me when the sensuous frame
Is racked with pangs that conquer trust;
And Time, a maniac scattering dust,
And Life, a Fury slinging flame.


Be near me when I fade away,
To point the term of human strife,
And on the low dark verge of life
The twilight of eternal day.

-In Memoriam
Lord Tennyson

"[Oscar] Wilde made dying Victorianism laugh at itself, and it may be said to have died of laughter."
-Richard Le Gallienne
about The Importance of Being Earnest.

"My hand, as it writes these words, slips gaily along, jumps like a grasshopper to dot an i, feels the table rather cold, gets a little bored if I write too long, has its own rudiments of thought, and is just as much me as is my brain, my mind, or my soul. Why should I imagine that there is a me which is more me than my hand is? Since my hand is absoloutely alive, me alive.
Whatever is me alive is me."
-Why the Novel Matters
D.H. Lawrence.

Hver segir svo að hið akademíska líf auðgi ekki andann??