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Favourite quotes from books and poems


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I’d be interested to hear peoples, here’s one of mine 

“I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”
The final paragraph of Wuthering Heights 

 

 

"Freedom without socialism is privilege and injustice, socialism without freedom is slavery and brutality" - Mikhail Bakunin

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Nobodies, by Eduardo Galeano.

Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them - will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.

The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no-ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Who are not, but could be.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have religions, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.

"Men will be proud to say 'I am a European'. We hope to see a day when men of every country will think as much of being a European as of being from their native land." (Winston Churchill)

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2 hours ago, Phil said:

I’d be interested to hear peoples, here’s one of mine 

“I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”
The final paragraph of Wuthering Heights 

 

 

never been a kate bush fan

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did the bloke who invented the phrase "one hit wonder" invent anything else?

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" somebody said , it couldn't be done " 

Edgar Guest 

This poem has been my ' mantra ' and inspiration since my mum handed me a ripped piece of the daily mirror with it on it 30 years ago 

 

 

 

Edited by GUBRATS
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There's often the final verse quoted, but the first verse of Henley's 'Invictus' reached into that soul more.

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

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From To A Mouse R. Burns

That resonate for me

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
          Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
          An’ fellow-mortal!
 
Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
          On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
          I guess an’ fear!

Ron Banks

Bears and Barrow

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''...do you think a greater thinking thing ....will give a damn , that Man , was here. ''

last line of poem When all the laughter dies in sorrow .

Kendrew Laschelles.

Edited by Stirlin
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It would be great if we could all reference who we’re quoting 

 

ta 

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"Freedom without socialism is privilege and injustice, socialism without freedom is slavery and brutality" - Mikhail Bakunin

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"Very few castaways can claim to have survived so long at sea as Mr. Patel, and none in the company of an adult Bengal tiger."

He still wouldn't last 5 minutes with our Priti!

 

 

 

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I had to look this up before, just in case I had imagined it.

The Mayor of Greymouth, Dr Barry Dallas, has also argued that the Coast should declare itself independent from the rest of New Zealand - which has come as a surprise to some locals, who were under the impression that it already was.
But it needs to be remembered that this is the same man who appointed his dog as mayoress. Not that Coasters consider this to be particularly bizarre behaviour. 'It's a smart dog,' they say.

Dave Hadfield, Once weren't Warriors (XIII Worlds)

"Men will be proud to say 'I am a European'. We hope to see a day when men of every country will think as much of being a European as of being from their native land." (Winston Churchill)

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15 hours ago, Futtocks said:

Nobodies, by Eduardo Galeano.

Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them - will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.

The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no-ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Who are not, but could be.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have religions, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.

Jeez....how depressing...

Four legs good - two legs bad

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I like this sonnet by Shelley.

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

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Four legs good - two legs bad

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39 minutes ago, JohnM said:

I like this sonnet by Shelley.

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

I was going to quote that one, a commentary of the fleeting nature of fame and power 

"Freedom without socialism is privilege and injustice, socialism without freedom is slavery and brutality" - Mikhail Bakunin

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“In case you hadn’t noticed, you have a mental dialogue going on inside your head that never stops. It just keeps going and going. Have you ever wondered why it talks in there? How does it decide what to say and when to say it?”

the-untethered-soul-the-journey-beyond-y

 

"Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun."

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adam

Edited by Oxford

 

 

 

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“But Mole stood still a moment, held in thought. As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who struggles to recall it, but can recapture nothing but a dim sense of the beauty in it, the beauty! Till that, too, fades away in its turn, and the dreamer bitterly accepts the hard, cold waking and all its penalties.”
Kenneth Grahame (The Wind in the Willows)

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"Men will be proud to say 'I am a European'. We hope to see a day when men of every country will think as much of being a European as of being from their native land." (Winston Churchill)

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"The moving finger writes and, having writ,

Moves on; nor all thy piety nor wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,

Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it."

And,

"Oh thou who man of baser earth didst make

And who, with Eden didst devise the snake,

For all the sins wherewith the face of man is blackened,

Man's forgiveness give; and take."

Both verses from Fitzgerald's rendering of The Rubaiyyat of Omar Khayyam.

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Rethymno Rugby League Appreciation Society

Founder (and, so far, only) member.

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I think I used to have this as a signature.

“I guess I'm just an old mad scientist at bottom. Give me an underground laboratory, half a dozen atom-smashers, and a beautiful girl in a diaphanous veil waiting to be turned into a chimpanzee, and I care not who writes the nation's laws.”
S.J.Perelman

"Men will be proud to say 'I am a European'. We hope to see a day when men of every country will think as much of being a European as of being from their native land." (Winston Churchill)

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“Francois Rabelais. He was this poet. And his last words were ‘I go to seek a Great Perhaps.’ That’s why I’m going. So I don’t have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps.”

John Green - Looking for Alaska, obviously Francois Rabelais originally.

"All accomplishment is transient. Strive unremittingly" - Buddha

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A "recipe". When they did the BBC audiobook, they got Leslie Phillips to read it, and I strongly suggest you read this in his voice.

First, shoot your cormorant. Having shot your cormorant, hold it well away from you as you carry it home... these birds are exceedingly verminous and the lice are said to be not entirely host-specific. Hang up by the feet with a piece of wire, soak in petrol and set on fire. This treatment both removes most of the feathers and kills the lice.
When the smoke has cleared away, take the cormorant down and cut off the beak. Send this to the local Conservancy Board who, if you are in the right area, will give you 3/6d or sometimes 5/- for it. Bury the carcass, preferably in a light sandy soil, and leave it there for a fortnight. This is said to improve the flavour by removing, in part at least, the taste of rotting fish.
Dig up, skin and draw the bird. Place in a strong salt and water solution and soak for 48 hours.
Remove, dry, and stuff with whole, unpeeled onions... the onion skins are supposed to bleach the meat to a small extent so that it is very dark brown instead of being entirely black.
Simmer gently in seawater - to which two tbsp of chloride of lime have been added - for six hours. This has a further tenderising effect. Take out of the water and allow to dry. Meanwhile, mix up a stiff paste of methylated spirit and curry powder. Spread this mixture liberally over the breast of the bird. Finally, roast in a very hot oven for three hours.
The result is unbelievable.
Throw it away. Not even a starving vulture would eat it.

W.F.W.Fowler (The Countryman's Cookbook)

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"Men will be proud to say 'I am a European'. We hope to see a day when men of every country will think as much of being a European as of being from their native land." (Winston Churchill)

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“I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.'”

A Man Without a Country by [Kurt Vonnegut]

 

 

 

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