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The new Forum may be found at http://booksliterature.com/ .
The former post was removed as it violated our user agreement, or it did not add to the "Great Books" conversation in a constructive manner.
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We prefer Shakespearean Sonnets, reflections on Space and Time, and posts along the lines of:
XLVII Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took, And each doth good turns now unto the other: When that mine eye is famish'd for a look, Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother, With my love's picture then my eye doth feast, And to the painted banquet bids my heart; Another time mine eye is my heart's guest, And in his thoughts of love doth share a part: So, either by thy picture or my love, Thy self away, art present still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move, And I am still with them, and they with thee; Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight Awakes my heart, to heart's and eye's delight. --William Shakespeare
CX Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new; Most true it is, that I have look'd on truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above, These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays prov'd thee my best of love. Now all is done, save what shall have no end: Mine appetite I never more will grind On newer proof, to try an older friend, A god in love, to whom I am confin'd. Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast. --William Shakespeare
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Belief: St. Augustine Quotes Faith is to believe what you do not yet see; the reward for this faith is to see what you believe.
Best Regards,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
XXVIII How can I then return in happy plight, That am debarre'd the benefit of rest? When day's oppression is not eas'd by night, But day by night and night by day oppress'd, And each, though enemies to either's reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toil, the other to complain How far I toil, still farther off from thee. I tell the day, to please him thou art bright, And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven: So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night, When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even. But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger. --William Shakespeare