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Post by Gator on Sept 25, 2015 1:16:49 GMT -5
Alas! all music jars when the soul's out of tune.
Miguel de Cervantes
(1547-1616)
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Post by Gator on Sept 26, 2015 13:12:29 GMT -5
An unhappy gentleman, resolving to wed nothing short of perfection, keeps his heart and hand till both get so old and withered that no tolerable woman will accept them.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
(1804-1864)
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Post by Gator on Sept 26, 2015 23:26:35 GMT -5
A masterpiece is something said once and for all, stated, finished, so that it's there complete in the mind, if only at the back.
Virginia Woolf
(1882-1941)
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Post by Gator on Sept 27, 2015 23:39:39 GMT -5
Men cling to life even at the cost of enduring great misfortune.
Aristotle
(384 BC-322 BC)
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Post by Gator on Sept 29, 2015 13:10:15 GMT -5
When men exercise their reason coolly and freely on a variety of distinct questions, they inevitably fall into different opinions on some of them. When they are governed by a common passion, their opinions, if they are so to be called, will be the same.
Alexander Hamilton
(1755-1804)
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Post by Gator on Oct 1, 2015 16:25:40 GMT -5
Equality may perhaps be a right, but no power on earth can ever turn it into a fact.
Honore de Balzac
(1799-1850)
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Post by Gator on Oct 2, 2015 2:57:20 GMT -5
Everybody likes to go their own way—to choose their own time and manner of devotion.
Jane Austen
(1775-1817)
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Post by Gator on Jan 12, 2017 18:20:31 GMT -5
You … know full well as I do the value of sisters' affections to each other: There is nothing like it in this world.
Charlotte Bronte
(1816-1855)
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Post by Gator on Jan 13, 2017 0:38:32 GMT -5
I have never felt lonesome, or in the least oppressed by a sense of solitude, but once, and that was a few weeks after I came to the woods, when, for an hour, I doubted if the near neighborhood of man was not essential to a serene and healthy life.
Henry David Thoreau
(1817-1862)
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Post by Gator on Jan 14, 2017 8:27:13 GMT -5
Danger lies in the writer becoming the victim of his own exaggeration ... and in the end coming to despise truth itself as something too cold, too blunt for his purpose—as, in fact, not good enough for his insistent emotion. From laughter and tears the descent is easy to sniveling and giggles.
Joseph Conrad
(1857-1924)
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Post by Gator on Jan 15, 2017 11:45:23 GMT -5
The stains of her grief became her as raindrops do the beaten rose.
Edith Wharton
(1862-1937
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Post by Gator on Jan 16, 2017 11:46:10 GMT -5
The man who is not loved hovers like a vulture over the sweetheart of others.
Victor Hugo
(1802-1885)
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Post by Gator on Jan 17, 2017 8:16:15 GMT -5
Let us not tire of a good work, hard though it be and wearisome; think of the many little hearts that in their sorrow look to us for help.
Louisa May Alcott
(1832-1888)
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Post by Gator on Jan 18, 2017 9:44:14 GMT -5
Edible, adj.: Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm.
Ambrose Bierce
(1842-1914)
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Post by Gator on Jan 19, 2017 11:01:38 GMT -5
There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; But when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more?
Rudyard Kipling
(1865-1936)
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