"The only way to avoid the hand of God is to get into it." -- Sula, Toni Morrison
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"The only way to avoid the hand of God is to get into it." -- Sula, Toni Morrison
See my Signature...
The Silver Wolf by Alice Borchardt, pg. 223
To the wolf there was no right or wrong, good or evil. There was only the pattern and she was part of the patter. To judge as the woman did was as foregin to her nature as were hope and despair.
To the wolf, the world was a tapestry of things given--sunrises scarlet, then gold; sunsets arrayed in purple shadow and bloody light; plains awash in tall grasses and mountains drifting against blue skies; and gray storms that rose, coalescing seemingly out of nothing in the upper air, then roaming at random, drenching the earth with rain. Spending thier fury in wild bursts of lightening
Life was part of the pattern and death, too, as were blood and pain. She herself had struggled uncountable times, sodden with suffering, down the long, dark path into starless night. But this, too was part of the pattern, part of the seamless tapestry of light and darkness whose only assurance was its own endless ever-changing repetition, always different, yet the same forever.
The pattern was beauty, somehow always in everlasting harmony with itself. Beautuy was! Ugiliness, saddnes, despair, were human judgements imposed by lesser frightend minds on the whole shinning spectrum of reality whose boundries the wolf couldn't even dimly comprehend.
I just like the rhythm and the dramatic tone of this sentence:
"It is better to burn out than fade away."
- Someone's suicide note from 'Or Not To Be' - A Collection of suicide notes
Hello everybody.
I am a musician from Belgium and I entered this site because I am looking for some answers in the literature field.
Write now I am doing a research on the similarity in classical music form and classical literature form.
Actually my goal is to see if the sonata form in music (I am tlking about 18 century and the very begining of 19 , mostly beethoven) has a similarity in the roman or novel written in the same period .
So if someone could tell me if he knows some Novels or romans which are considered as "classic" in Literature and has a very wll structured smple and orgenised form i would really apriciate this.
"Heaven's net is wide but its mesh is fine
from Heaven's net is wide (obviously this is the basis of the title) by Lian Hearn.
It's a really beautiful book (all of hers are) and has lots of lovely quotes; this is the only one I could remember off the top of my head. Apparently it is an ancient proverb.
I really like it because it's really simple, but you can still read it in loads of different ways.
To Dr. Lewis.
Gloucester, April 2.
DOCTOR,
THE pills are good for nothing; I might as well swallow snowballs to cool my reins. I have told you over and over, how hard I am to move; and at this time of day, I ought to know something of my own constitution. Why will you be so positive? Prithee send me another prescription. I am as lame and as much tortured in all my limbs as if I was broke upon the wheel: indeed, I am equally distressed in mind and body. As if I had not plagues enough of my own, those children of my sister are left me for a perpetual source of vexation; what business have people to get children to plague their neighbours? A ridiculous incident that happened yesterday to my niece Liddy, has disordered me in such a manner, that I expect to be laid up with another fit of the gout; perhaps, I may explain myself in my next. I shall set out to-morrow morning for the Hot Well at Bristol, where I am afraid I shall stay longer than I could wish.
{re-read of an old and humourus favourite} quasimodo1
To Sir Watkin Phillips, of Jesus college, Oxon.
Hot-well, April 18.
DEAR PHILLIPS,
I GIVE Mansel credit for his invention, in propagating the report that I had a quarrel with a mountebank’s merry Andrew at Gloucester: but I have too much respect for every appendage of wit, to quarrel even with the lowest buffoonery; and therefore I hope Mansel and I shall always be good friends. I cannot, however, approve of his drowning my poor dog Ponto, on purpose to convert Ovid’s pleonasm into a punning epitaph—deerant quoque Littora Ponto; for, that he threw him into the Isis, when it was so high and impetuous, with no other view than to kill the fleas, is an excuse that will not hold water. But I leave poor Ponto to his fate, and hope Providence will take care to accommodate Mansel with a drier death.
As there is nothing that can be called company at the Well, I am here in a state of absolute rustication. This, however, gives me leisure to observe the singularities in my uncle’s character, which seems to have interested your curiosity. The truth is, his disposition and mine, which, like oil and vinegar, repelled one another at first, have now begun to mix by dint of being beat up together. I was once apt to believe him a complete Cynic; and that nothing but the necessity of his occasions could compel him to get within the pale of society. I am now of another opinion. I think his peevishness arises partly from bodily pain, and partly from a natural excess of mental sensibility; for, I suppose, the mind as well as the body, is in some cases endued with a morbid excess of sensation.
"She had been a comet in the sky, exciting to observe, quick to evaporate." (Joan of Arc: Maid, Myth, and History ~ Timothy Wilson-Smith)
Chapter 4
To Miss Willis, at Gloucester.
Bath, April 26.
MY DEAREST COMPANION,
THE pleasure I received from yours, which came to hand yesterday, is not to be expressed. Love and friendship are, without doubt, charming passions; which absence serves only to heighten and improve. Your kind present of the garnet bracelets, I shall keep as carefully as I preserve my own life; and I beg you will accept, in return, of my heart-housewife, with the tortoiseshell memorandum-book, as a trifling pledge of my unalterable affection.
Bath is to me a new world. All is gaiety, good-humour, and diversion. The eye is continually entertained with the splendour of dress and equipage; and the ear with the sound of coaches, chaises, chairs, and other carriages. The merry bells ring round, from morn till night. Then we are welcomed by the city- waits in our own lodgings: we have music in the Pump-room every morning, cotillons every fore-noon in the rooms, balls twice a week, and concerts every other night, besides private assemblies and parties without number. As soon as we were settled in lodgings, we were visited by the Master of the Ceremonies; a pretty little gentleman, so sweet, so fine, so civil, and polite, that in our country he might pass for the prince of Wales; then he talks so charmingly, both in verse and prose, that you would be delighted to hear him discourse, for you must know he is a great writer, and has got five tragedies ready for the stage. He did us the favour to dine with us, by my uncle’s invitation; and next day ’squired my aunt and me to every part of Bath; which, to be sure, is an earthly paradise. The Square, the Circus, and the Parades, put you in mind of the sumptuous palaces represented in prints and pictures; and the new buildings, such as Princes-row, Harlequin’s-row, Bladud’s-row, and twenty other rows, look like so many enchanted castles, raised on hanging terraces.
{quasimodo1}
Victor-Lévy Beaulieu, Don Quichotte de la démanche
It's part of a nightmare, horrible images...
"Steven was furious, he was holding the pig by it's ears and hitting it with his head. "Steven! Steven!" Abel was shouting. The pig was letting his ears be twisted and even seemed to enjoy it, corkscrewing it's tail and showing with grace his humid sexual organ."
My translation.
"Human speech is like a cracked tin kettle on which we hammer out tunes to make bears dance when we long to move the stars"
Madame Bovery, Gustave Flaubert
"but I remember I preferred the soldier to a philosopher at the time; a preference which life has only confirmed. One was a man, and the other was either more--or less."
Youth - Joseph Conrad
Before I was born, she had gone such lengths in the way of flirting with a recruiting officer, that her reputation was a little singed. She afterwards made advances to the curate of the parish, who dropped some distant hints about the next presentation to the living, which was in her brother’s gift; but finding that was already promised to another, he flew off at a tangent; and Mrs. Tabby, in revenge, found means to deprive him of his cure. Her next lover was lieutenant of a man of war, a relation of the family, who did not understand the refinements of the passion, and expressed no aversion to grapple with cousin Tabby in the way of marriage; but before matters could be properly adjusted, he went out on a cruise, and was killed in an engagement with a French frigate. Our aunt, though baffled so often, did not yet despair. She laid all her snares for Dr. Lewis, who is the fidus Achates of my uncle. She even fell sick upon the occasion, and prevailed with Matt to interpose in her behalf with his friend; but the Doctor, being a shy ****, would not be caught with chaff, and flatly rejected the proposal: so that Mrs. Tabitha was content to exert her patience once more, after having endeavoured in vain to effect a rupture betwixt the two friends; and now she thinks proper to be very civil to Lewis, who is become necessary to her in the way of his profession.
{excerpt from Chapter 5}
I start reading .I start to read Shakespearian drama.The first book i got for reading is Julius Caesar.Brutus is my favorite character.