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Ahoy there mates & fellow book lovers!

The new Forum may be found at .

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:

Not all of us have to possess earthshaking talent. Just common sense and love will do. Myrtle Auvil

XXXIX

O! how thy worth with manners may I sing,
When thou art all the better part of me?
What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?
And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?
Even for this, let us divided live,
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.
O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave,
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly doth deceive, 
  And that thou teachest how to make one twain,
  By praising him here who doth hence remain.
 
XL

Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
Then, if for my love, thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;
But yet be blam'd, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty:
And yet, love knows it is a greater grief
To bear greater wrong, than hate's known injury.
  Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
  Kill me with spites yet we must not be foes.
 	--William Shakespeare

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If A is a success in life, then A equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut. --Albert Einstein

Best Regards,

William Einstein Shakespeare :)

I am an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature and a royalist in politics. T. S. Eliot