I found this posted without attribution on the Patients Like Me site and repeat it without comment. Having chronic pain means many things change, and a lot of them are invisible. Unlike having cancer or being hurt in an accident, …Continue reading →
On returning to my inn, I could not but reflect on the singular gift of the poet; to be able thus to spread the magic of his mind over the very face of nature; to give to things and places …Continue reading →
During the annual Black Friday shopping event, Americans spend money they don’t have on things they don’t need and that don’t make them happy or at least happier, just poorer and more unsatisfied. Then, like Charlie Brown, they wonder what happened to the spirit of Christmas.
I passed some time in Poets Corner, which occupies an end of one of the transepts or cross aisles of the abbey. The monuments are generally simple; for the lives of literary men afford no striking themes for the sculptor. Shakespeare and Addison have statues erected to their memories; but the greater part have busts, medallions, and sometimes mere inscriptions. Notwithstanding the simplicity of these memorials, I have always observed that the visitors to the abbey remained longest about them. A kinder and fonder feeling takes place of that cold curiosity or vague admiration with which they gaze on the splendid monuments of the great and the heroic. They linger about these as about the tombs of friends and companions; for indeed there is something of companionship between the author and the reader. Other men are known to posterity only through the medium of history, which is continually growing faint and obscure: but the intercourse between the author and his fellow-men is ever new, active, and immediate. He has lived for them more than for himself; he has sacrificed surrounding enjoyments, and shut himself up from the delights of social life, that he might the more intimately commune with distant minds and distant ages. Well may the world cherish his renown; for it has been purchased, not by deeds of violence and blood, but by the diligent dispensation of pleasure. Well may posterity be grateful to his memory; for he has left it an inheritance, not of empty names and sounding actions, but whole treasures of wisdom, bright gems of thought, and golden veins of language.
Capitalists in the making College female 1: . . . a concept for class. That’s how Jamba Juice was created.College female 2: Oh, wow. When reviewers need editors This is a book that every single parent needs to read. Book …Continue reading →
From St. Mawr by D. H. Lawrence. Lou: As far as people go, my heart is quite broken. As far as people go, I don’t want any more. I can’t stand any more. What heart I ever had for it …Continue reading →
He understood that shivering better now. He was the conduit, the open window, by which, on rare occasions, she felt the ventus Dei. In the center of her sensuality, she was God’s plaything. John Updike, “Love Song, for a Moog …Continue reading →
Seems like nothing ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge,And now Billy Joe MacAllister’s jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge. Bobbie Gentry, “Ode to Billie Joe” When you mention poetry to most people, you will invoke for them images …Continue reading →
In a little while from now If I’m not feeling any less sour I promise myself to treat myself And visit a nearby tower And climbing to the top will throw myself off In an effort to make it clear …Continue reading →