Quote of the moment

There are some people who think that they should be always mourning, that they should put a continual constraint upon themselves, and feel a disgust for those amusements to which they are obliged to submit. For my own part, I confess that I know not how to conform myself to these rigid notions. I prefer something more simple, which I also think would be more pleasing to God.

François Fénelon

Everything comes to an end

Ophelia...destiny of woman

what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword,
Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
Th' observ'd of all observers- quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

Everyone has a past...or a present...or a future...

Erlkoenig

Who rides so late through the windy night?
The father holding his young son so tight.
The boy is cradled safe in his arm,
He holds him sure and he holds him warm.

Why is your face so frightened my son?
The King of elves, father, see him yon?
The Elfin King with his tail and crown?
It is the fog, my son, streaming down.

Yes, you my dear child, come go with me!
The games I play, you'll like them, come see.
The shore is coloured with flow'rs in bloom,
My mother's gold gowns, you will see soon.

Oh father, father, can you not hear
What the elfking promises? I fear!
Be calm, stay quiet my dearest son,
The wind blows the dry leaves of autumn.

My darling boy, won't you come with me?
I have daughters in whose care you'll be.
My daughters dance round the fairy ring.
Each night they'll cradle you, dance and sing.

Father, dear father, can you not see
The elf king's daughter staring at me?
My son, my son, I see it so well:
Gray meadows on which the moonlight fell.

I love you for your beauty of course,
If free you'll not come, I will use force.
Father, dear father, he's touching me.
Of elf king's hurt, father please, free me.

Dread grips the father, he spurs the roan,
In loving arms he feels the boy moan.
At last, the courtyard, with fear and dread,
He looks at the child; the boy is dead.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

You can't kill an idea...

...it's memory will survive!

Quote of the moment

"Common sense always speaks too late.
Common sense is the guy who tells you you ought to have had your brakes relined last week before you smashed a front end this week.
Common sense is the Monday morning quarterback who could have won the ball game if he had been on the team. But he never is. He's high up in the stands with a flask on his hip.
Common sense is the little man in a grey suit who never makes a mistake in addition. But it's always somebody else's money he's adding up. "

Philip Marlowe in Playback (1958), by Raymond Chandler