The chief glory of every people arises from its authors.

The chief glory of every people arises from its authors.

Beauty is but a flower,Which wrinkles will devour;Brightness falls from the air;Queens have died young and fair;Dust hath closed Helen's read more

Beauty is but a flower,Which wrinkles will devour;Brightness falls from the air;Queens have died young and fair;Dust hath closed Helen's eye.I am sick, I must die;Lord have mercy on us. - Song in Time of Pestilence.

If the radiance of a thousand sunsWere to burst at once into the skyThat would be like the splendor of read more

If the radiance of a thousand sunsWere to burst at once into the skyThat would be like the splendor of the Mighty one --I am become Death,The shatterer of Worlds. - Bhagavad Gita.

Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked read more

Vigny, more secretAs if in his tower of ivory, retired before noon."N.B.: Vigny refers to Comte de Vigny, who locked himself in an ivory tower to work without the influences of man and desire. - Pensees d'Aout.

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the read more

What is wonderful about great literature is that it transforms the man who reads it towards the condition of the man who wrote.

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more

You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.

Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of read more

Nothing but blackness aboveAnd nothing that moves but the cars...God, if you wish for our love,Fling us a handful of stars! - Caliban in the Coal Mines.

Author: A fool, who, not content with having bored those who have lived with him, insists on tormenting the generations read more

Author: A fool, who, not content with having bored those who have lived with him, insists on tormenting the generations to come.

All literature is gossip.

All literature is gossip.