Civilization is the lamb's skin in which barbarism masquerades.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836 - 1907)
Contributed by: Zaady
Books that have become classics - books that have had their day and now get more praise than perusal - always remind me of retired colonels and majors and captains who, having reached the age limit, find themselves retired on half pay.
A man is known by the company his mind keeps.
What is lovely never dies, But passes into other loveliness, Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.
The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born.
We vivisect the nightingale To probe the secret of his note.
No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.
I like to have a thing suggested rather than told in full. When every detail is given, the mind rests satisfied, and the imagination loses the desire to use its own wings.
They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.
True art selects and paraphrases, but seldom gives a verbatim translation.
Source: Pongapog Papers, 1903.
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