Thought provoking quotes...
But what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for thr light:
And with no language but a cry.
--Alfred Lord Tennyson
And their sun does never shine,
And their fields are bleak and bare,
And their ways are filled with thorns:
It is eternal winter there.
No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
Cruelty, very far from being a vice, is the first sentiment Nature injects into us all. Absurd then to maintain cruelty is a consequence of depravity... Cruelty is simply the energy in a man civilization has not yet altogether corrupted: therfore it is a virtue, not a vice.
--Marquis de Sade
Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.
--Rainer Maria Rilke
Hush! My dear, lie still and slumber.
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
In a dark time, the eye begins to see.
--A simple Child,
That lightly draws it's breath,
And feels it's life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
All is not lost; th' unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate.
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, Til that a capable and wide revenge swallow them up.
It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength of freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, and everlasting beauty of monotony.
Of all God's works! Creature in whome exelle'd
Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd,
Holy, Divine, Good, Amiable, or Sweet!
Deface'd, deflower'd and now to Death Devote.
I have felt the wind of the wing of madness pass over me.
Death is swallowed up in victory, O Death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
--I Corinthians 15:54--55
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, with joy and love triumphing.
I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!
--and if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death...
Then he relaxed with a ruefuul smile--nothing
like that was going to happen anytime soon.
Better he should read Robert Browning:
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made...
Ah! When will this long weary day have end,
And lend me leave to come unto my love?
There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.
But truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking.
Every moon is atrocious, and every sun bitter.
Still falls the rain--
Dark as the world of man,
black as our loss--
Blind as the nails
Upon the cross.
O fairest of creation! Last and best
The barb in the arrow of childhood is this: it's intense lonliness.