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Think neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices are fathered by our heroism. Virtues are forced upon us by our impudent crimes. These tears are shaken from the wrath-bearing tree.
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Do I dare Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
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Our age is an age of moderate virtue And moderate vice
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We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us... and we drown.
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Between the conceptionAnd the creationBetween the emotionAnd the responseFalls the Shadow
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Jellicle Cats come out tonight, Jellicle Cats come one come all: The Jellicle Moon is shining bright - Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.
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Think not forever of yourselves, O Chiefs, nor of your own generation. Think of continuing generations of our families, think of our grandchildren and of those yet unborn, whose faces are coming from beneath the ground.
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And all shall be well and/ All manner of thing shall be well/ By the purification of the motive/ In the ground of our beseeching
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If you will not have God (and He is a jealous God), you should pay your respects to Hitler or Stalin.
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Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square - But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!
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I journeyed to London, to the timekept City, Where the River flows, with foreign flotations. There I was told: we have too many churches, And too few chop-houses.
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Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
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I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots;Her coat is one of the tabby kind,with tiger stripes and lepard spots.
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In the vacant places We will build with new bricks
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As a rule, with me an unfinished [idea] is a thing that might as well be rubbed out. It's better, if there's something good in it that I might make use of elsewhere, to leave it at the back of my mind than on paper in a drawer. If I leave it in a drawer it remains the same thing but if it's in the memory it becomes transformed into something else.
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The Nobel is a ticket to one's own funeral. No one has ever done anything after he got it.
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They constantly try to escape From the darkness outside and within By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good. But the man that is shall shadow The man that pretends to be.
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Gradually we come to admit that Shakespeare understands a greater extent and variety of human life than Dante; but that Dante understands deeper degrees of degradation and higher degrees of exaltation.
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Art serves us best precisely at that point where it can shift our sense of what is possible, when we know more than we knew before, when we feel we have - by some manner of a leap - encountered the truth. That, by the logic of art, is always worth the pain.
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The work of creation is never without travail
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The historical sense compels a man to write not merely with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of literature from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a simultaneous order.
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The world turns and the world changes, But one thing does not change. In all of my years, one thing does not change, However you disguise it, this thing does not change: The perpetual struggle of Good and Evil.
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It is not necessarily those lands which are the most fertile or most favored in climate that seem to me the happiest, but those in which a long struggle of adaptation between man and his environment has brought out the best qualities of both.
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And I have known the arms already, known them all - Arms that are braceleted and white and bare But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!It is perfume from a dress That makes me so digress?Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl. And should I then presume?