Sunday 27 May 2007

EMILY

In the midst of the 60's
She found herself confused
She was challenged to come see and do her part
So instead of becoming a part of the problem
She became part of the solution instead
She came to make a difference
The odd thing about the Vietnam war
It makes no differenece if you are male or female
Soldier or civilian the war impacts your soul
She bore the risks of combat
Same as you and me
She served us all with fidelity
Some will say she didn't serve
I will tell them that they are wrong
She is as much a Veteran -as us all
Emily raised in Atlanta
With her charm and her grace
Became a Donut Dollie in a far away place
She became a beacon of light...she brought us hope
With her smile and round-eyes
She took us to another time and place--away from the war
She didn't carry a weapon
She came with fun and games--she did her part
More importantly she became a part of the soldiers heart
As I look back on memories of the pastI recall with a certain fondness
Her beauty with a southern voice
Thanks for doing your part
You are not forgotYou became part of our heart
The gal from Georgia-our Donut Dolly
A soldier's friend indeed
WELCOME HOME EMILY-my sister...
WELCOME HOME indeed

BY: Doc Kerry Pardue November 2, 2003www.kerrypardue247.com/Index.html Vietnam 1968-1969755th Medical Detachment--Plieku8th Medical Detachment--Ban Me ThoutScouts, 2/47th Infantry, 9th Infantry Division--Bihn Phouc

Swansea Film Festival

‘Simpsons’ writer among entries for Swansea film festival
May 26 2007
by Claire Hill, Western Mail

A FILM from one of the writers of The Simpsons is one of the highlights of this year’s Swansea Film Festival.
The four-times Emmy winner Mike Reiss, who also wrote the Ice Age films, will present his film Queer Duck screened at this year’s event.
The writer will join 378 film makers, directors, actors and producers who will all arrive in Swansea for the 13-day festival which starts on Tuesday.
The festival has attracted more than 1,100 entries from around the world and during the movie bash, 307 of the best films will be screened at various venues across the city.
The film festival venues will include the Ibis Hotel, Swansea Bay, Aberavon Beach Hotel, Dylan Thomas Centre and Vue Cinema, Swansea.

The festival’s annual Tinny awards will be held at the Dylan Thomas Centre on Friday June 8.
With 36 awards to be presented in categories like Best Avant Garde Film and Best UK Documentary the evening will be presented by Spencer Feeney, Lembit Opik and The Cheeky Girls.
While the Swansea festival will focus on a mix of films, next month will see the launch of a film festival in celebration of cycling.
The Cardiff festival will mark Bike Week 2007 with a series of bicycle film classics. Chapter Arts Centre in Cardiff are taking a leading role by hosting Wheel to Reel, the city’s inaugural Bicycle Film Week.
The festival, which will run from June 15-24 will include classics from world cinema such as Beijing Bicycle and Jacques Tati’s silent comedy Jour de Fête.
Alongside these will be more modern films like Belleville Rendezvous.
Other films like Hell on Wheels and Overcoming will explore the exploits of cycling’s sporting heroes.
The event is being organised in collaboration with Cycle Cardiff, a new community cycling group, which will also run rides and information stalls throughout the week to encourage people to take to the saddle.


Full information on all the films in the Wheel to Reel season can be found at www.chapter.org.

Monday 14 May 2007

How good was Du Maurier?

Guardian Unlimited: Arts blog - books

Let's not get carried away about Du Maurier
John Mullan


May 11, 2007 4:18 PM

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/books/2007/05/dont_get_carried_away_about_du.html
Don't look now: Daphne DuMaurier at her desk. Photograph: Hans Wild/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images


Should Daphne Du Maurier's literary status be higher? To coincide with her centenray on Sunday, Radio 4 is having a Daphne Du Maurier season and a film biography is to run on BBC TV. Sir Christopher Frayling has written a laudatory preface to a new Daphne du Maurier Companion and was on the Today programme this week with film director Nicholas Roeg to argue for her merits. "Can she be regarded as a great novelist?" asked interviewer Sarah Montague. Well, can she?
Her fiction makes for terrific films because she had the gift of tapping in to some of our peculiar fears. Hitchcock's The Birds and Roeg's Don't Look Now were both extrapolated from Du Maurier short stories that do touch this pulse. "There is no greater horror than the loss of a child," said Nicholas Roeg, and the idea of the story that he elaborated is a gripping one. Similarly, Rebecca is psychologically clever, a Cinderella tale that implies the sexual fears which undermine the romance.
"It's quite difficult to be taken seriously by the critics and be a bestseller," was Frayling's explanation of her status. But Du Maurier's bestsellers were not so by accident. Jamaica Inn was a "tale of adventure" set in Cornwall, with villainous smugglers and wreckers, and "atmospheric" scenes on Bodmin Moor. It has a sturdy, standard-issue romantic heroine who has to choose between glowering sub-Brontë Cornishmen. (Rochester/Heathcliff figures recur in her fiction.) Plenty of her output is efficient historical flummery. Only a care with natural description sets Frenchman's Creek apart from formula historical fiction.
Du Maurier is being celebrated because she had an undoubted Gothic tendency, and Gothic is nowadays much over-valued by critics. Like much Gothic fiction, Du Maurier's best work deals in visceral topics in a superficial way. She taps into things that matter to us, yet she is simply not much of a writer. Rebecca may be psychologically interesting, but its narrator's breathy prose is oddly witless and wordy. Take a sample piece of prose - the sometimes admired opening of this novel would do - and you will find the slightly jarring infelicities - unhappy repetitions of words, mixing of metaphors, inexact vocabulary - that define a limited literary talent.

Du Maurier Quotation

Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.

Daphne du Maurier

British novelist (1907 - 1989)

Daphne du Maurier ~ Centenary of her birth 2007

Daphne du Maurier (1907-1989) - married name Lady Daphne Browning

English novelist, biographer, and playwright, who published romantic suspense novels, mostly set on the coast of Cornwall. Du Maurier is best known for REBECCA (1938), filmed by Alfred Hitchcock in 1940. Orson Welles's radio adaptation from 1938 also paved way for its success. The novel has been characterized as the last and most famous imitations of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre (1847).
"Adventure was here. Adventure was there. Adventure was in picking up a posy dropped by a lady and offering it to an old gentleman who patted her head and gave her two-pence. Adventure was in gazing into pawnbrokers' windows, in riding in wagons when the carter smiled, in scuffling with apprentice boys, in hovering outside the bookshops, and when the bookseller was inside, tearing out the middle pages to read at home, for prospective purchasers never looked at anything but the beginning and the end." (from Mary Anne, 1954)
Daphne du Maurier was born in London into an artistic family. She was the granddaughter of caricaturist George du Maurier, her mother, Muriel Beaumont, was an actress, and her father was the actor-manager Sir Gerald du Maurier, who turned to writing and created the mad hypnotist Svengali. One of her ancestors was Mary Anne Clarke, the mistress of the duke of York, second son of King George III. She later became the heroine of du Maurier's novel MARY ANNE (1954). In 1831 Mary Anne Clarke's daughter married Louis-Mathurin Busson du Maurier. Her father Du Maurier portrayed in GERALD (1934). THE GLASS-BLOWERS (1963) was a novel about the Busson family.
Du Maurier grew up in a lively London household, where friends like J.M. Barrie and Edgar Wallace visited frequently. Her uncle, a magazine editor, published one of her stories when she was only a teenager and got her a literary agent. Du Maurier attended schools in London, Meudon, France, and Paris. In her childhood she was a voracious reader, she was fascinated by imaginary worlds and developed a male alter ego for herself. Du Maurier also had a male narrator in several novels. Her first book, THE LOVING SPIRIT, appeared in 1931. It was followed by JAMAICA INN (1936), a historical tale of smugglers, which was bought for the movies, and directed by Alfred Hitchcock, who later used her short story, 'The Birds', a tense tale of nature turning on humanity, for another film production. Also Du Maurier's FRENCHMAN'S CREEK, a pirate romance, and MY COUSIN RACHEL (1951), were succesfully filmed. The latter examined how a man may be manipulated by a woman, who perhaps has murdered her husband. Ambrose Ashley meets the beautiful Rachel Sangaletti, marries her and died six months later. He has sent letters to his nephew Philip, the narrator, who first hates Rachel, and then is bewitched by her. Du Maurier leaves open the question, is Rachel a posoner, or an innocent victim of Ambrose's and then Philip's paranoid fantasies. The author herself was as puzzled as her readers, did Rachel kill Ambrose. "Sometimes I think she did, sometimes I didn't - in the end I just couldn't make up my mind," du Maurier said. Rachel dies, taking the secret with her, but Philip's role in her death is clear, and perhaps he is the real murderer of the story.
In 1932 du Maurier married to Lieutenant Colonel Frederick Arthur Montague Browning II, who was knighted for his distinguished service during World War II. They were happily married for thirty-three years and had three children; Browning died in 1965. Du Maurier was made dame in 1969 for her literary distinction. She died on April 19, 1989. Her pictorial memoir, ENCHANTED CORNWALL, appeared posthumously in 1992. With her son, Christian, she published VANISHING CORNWALL in 1967. Like Rebecca, many of her novels and short stories were set in Cornwall, England's westernmost county, whose wild, stormy weather and wild past inspired her imagination. "Here was the freedom I desired, long sought-for, not yet known," she wrote in Vanishing Cornwall. "Freedom to write, to walk, to wander, freedom to climb hills, to pull a boat, to be alone." Du Maurier's home was at a seventeenth-century mansion, Menabilly, overlooking the sea, for a quarter of a century. The house became the scene of her historical novel THE KING'S GENERAL (1946).
Rebecca's opening line, "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again," is among the most memorable in twentieth-century literature. The story centers on a young and timid heroine. Her life is made miserable by her strangely behaving husband, Maxim de Winter, whom she just have married. Maxim is a wealthy widower, whose wife Rebecca has died in mysterious circumstances. His house is ruled by Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, who has made Rebecca's room a shrine. Du Maurier focuses on the fears and fantasies of the new wife, who eventually learns, that her husband did not love his former wife, a cruel, egoistical woman. Because of the familiar plot, suits of plagiarism were brought against du Maurier, but they were dropped when the widespread use of the theme, beginning from Charlotte Brontë's works, was established. Du Maurier's book, on the other hand, inspired Maureen Freely's novel The Other Rebecca (1996), in which the enigmatic Maxim de Winter appears as Max Midwinter.
Du Maurier started to write Rebecca while traveling in Egypt. She poured all of her own emotions in the central characted after learning about her husband's earlier live and his great love, Jan Ricardo, who had been an exotic, dark beauty. Before Alfred Hitchcock's film version, Orson Welles made a radio dramatization of Rebecca. It was performed in December 1938 by The Campbell Playhouse and sponsored by Campbell Soup. The adaptation starts with Bernard Herrmann's waltz-ladden score, but is then interrupted by an "important message from a man who keeps one eye on the dining table and another on the pantry..." Welles played Maxim de Winter and Margaret Sullavan the second Mrs de Winter. The producer David O. Selznick sent a transcript of the broadcast to Hitchcock. "If we do in motion pictures as fauthful a job as Welles did on the radio," Selznick wrote, "we are likely to have the same success the book had and the same success that Welles had."
Besides popular novels Du Maurier published short stories, plays, and biographies, among others Branwell Brontë's, the brother of sisters Anne, Charlotte, and Emily. Her biography of Francis Bacon, an English statesman in the 1500s and 1600s, appeared in 1976. Du Maurier's autobiography, GROWING PAINS, was published when she was 70. In the late 1950s, du Maurier began to take interest in the supernatural. During this period she wrote several stories, which explored fears and paranoid fantasies, among them 'The Pool', in which a young girl glimpses a magical world in the woods, but is later barred from it, and 'The Blue Lenses', in which a woman sees everyone around her having the head of an animal. In 1970 appeared her second collection of short stories, NOT AFTER MIDNIGHT, which included 'Don't Look Now', a tale set in Venice, involving a psychic old lady, a man with the sixth sense, and a murderous dwarf. A film version of the story, directed by Nicholas Roeg, was made in 1973. Du Maurier received in 1977 the Grand Master Award from the Mystery Writers of America.
For further reading: Daphne Du Maurier by Richard Kelly ( 1987); Daphne: The Life of Daphne du Maurier by Judith Cook (1991); The Private World of Daphne du Maurier by Martyn Shallcross (1992); Daphne du Maurier by Margaret Forster (1993); Daphne Du Maurier: A Daughter's Memoir by Flavia Leng (1995); Daphne Du Maurier: Writing, Identity and the Gothic Imagination by Avril Horner, Sue Zlosnik (1998); Mystery and Suspense Writers, vol. 1, ed. by Robin W. Winks (1998); Daphne Du Maurier, Haunted Heiress by Nina Auerbach (1999) - George Du Maurier (1834-96). Artist and illustrator, born in Paris. Joined the staff of Punch, and gained fame as a satirist. Wrote and illustrated three novels. He produced his first novel, Peter Ibbetson (1891), at the age of fifty-six, and then wrote Trilby (1894), which brought the name of a character, Svengali, to common use. - Note: Du Maurier's and actress Gertrude Lawrence's love letters were published in Daphne Du Maurier: The Secret Life of the Renowned Storyteller by Margaret Forster (1993) - Other film adaptations: Hungry Hill, dir. by Brian Desmond Hurst, 1946; The Birds, dir. by Alfred Hitchcock, script Evan Hunter, 1963; Don't Look Now, dir. by Nicholas Roeg, 1973. "Birds was slaughtered by Stanley Kauffman in the New Republic (April 13, 1963): "The script by Evan Hunter... is absolutely bereft of even the slick-magazine sophistication that Hitchcock's films usually have. The dialogue is stupid, the characters insufficiently developed to rank as cliches, the story incohesive... Suzanne Pleshette as a local schoolteacher is unobjectionable. The rest of the cast are offensively bad." - Suomeksi kirjailijalta on myös suomennettu kokoelma Linnut ja muita kertomuksia.
Selected works:

THE LOVING SPIRIT, 1931
I'LL NEVER BE YOUNG AGAIN, 1932
THE PROGRESS OF JULIUS, 1933
GERALD: A PORTRAIT, 1934
JAMAICA INN, 1936 - film 1939, dir. by Alfred Hitchcock, script Sidney Gillant, Joan Harrison, J.B. Priestley - TV serial in 1985
THE DU MAURIERS, 1937
REBECCA, 1938 - (suom. Helvi Vasara) - film 1940, dir. by Alfred Hitchcock, starring Laurence Olivier, Joan Fontaine, George Sanders. Rebecca was one of the top five box-office hits of 1940 and won Academy Awards for Best Picture and Cinematography. However, all reviews were not positive: "Dave Selznick's picture is too tragic and deeply psychological to hit the fancy of wide audience appeal... General audiences will tab it as a long-drawn out drama that could have been told better in less footage." (Variety, March 27. 1940) Du Maurier herself did not like the film, which shifted the locale from Cornwall to America. - TV serial in 1979 and 1997 .
HAPPY CHRISTMAS, 1940
REBECCA, 1940 (play)
COME WIND, COME WEATHER, 1941
FRENCHMAN'S CREEK, 1941 - Merirosvo ja kartanonrouva (suom. Raili Phan-Chan) -The- film 1944, dir. by Mitchell Leisen, starring Joan Fontaine, Arturo de Cordova, Basil Rathbone, Nigel Bruce
HUNGRY HILL, 1943 - Neljänteen sukupolveen (suom. Maija-Liisa Virtanen)
SPRING PICTURE, 1944
THE YEARS BETWEEN, 1944 (play)
LONDON AND PARIS, 1945
THE YEARS BETWEEN, 1945 - film 1946, dir. by Compton Bennett, starring Michael Redgrave, Valerie Hobson, Flora Robson, Felix Aylmer
THE KING'S GENERAL, 1946 - Kuninkaan kenraali (suom. Hilkka Koskiluoma)
HUNGRY HILL, 1947 (screenplay with Terence Young and Francis Crowdy) - film dir. by Brian Desmond Hurst, starring Margaret Lockwood, Dennis Price, Cecil Parker
SEPTEMBER TIDE, 1948 (play)
SEPTEMBER TIDE, 1949
THE PARASITES, 1949 - Kolmen piiri (suom. Kai Kaila)
THE YOUNG GEORGE DU MAURIER, 1951 (ed.)
MY COUSIN RACHEL, 1951 - Serkkuni Raakel (suom. Kyllikki Mäntylä) - film 1952, dir. by Henry Koster, script Nunnally Johnson, starring Olivia de Haviland and Richard Burton
THE APPLE TREE, 1952
MARY ANNE, 1954 - (suom. Maija-Leena Reunanen)
EARLY STORIES, 1954
THE SCAPEGOAT, 1957 - Kaksoisolento (suom. Maija-Leena Reunanen) - film 1958, dir. by Robert Hamer, script Gore Vidal, Robert Hamer, starring Bette Davis, Alec Guinness
THE BREAKING POINT, 1959
THE INFERNAL WORLD OF BRANWELL BRONTË, 1960
THE TREASURY OF DU MAURIER SHORT STORIES, 1960
CASTLE D'OR, 1962 (with Arthur Quiller-Couch)
THE GLASS BLOWERS, 1963 - Lasinpuhaltajat (suom. Kaija Kauppi)
THE FLIGHT OF THE FALCON, 1965 - Haukan lento
VANISHING CORNWALL, 1967
THE HOUSE ON THE STRAND, 1969 - Talo rannalla (suom. Kristiina Kivivuori)
NOT AFTER MIDNIGHT, 1971
RULE BRITANNIA, 1972 - Tapahtui eräänä päivänä (suom. Kristiina Kivivuori)
GOLDEN LADS, 1975
THE BREAKTHROUGH, 1976 (television play)
THE WINDING STAIR: FRANCIS BACON, HIS RISE AND FALL, 1976
ECHOES FROM THE MACABRE, 1976
GROWING PAINS: THE SHAPING OF A WRITER / MYSELF WHEN YOUNG, 1977
FOUR GREAT CORNISH NOVELS, 1978
THE RENDEZVOUS, AND OTHER STORIES, 1980
THE "REBECCA" NOTEBOOK, AND OTHER MEMORIES, 1981
CLASSICS OF THE MACABRE, 1987
MY COUSIN RACHEL, 1990 (play, ed. by Diana Morgan)
ENCHANTED CORNWALL, 1992
DAPHNE DU MAURIER: LETTERS FROM MENABILLY, 1994 (ed. by Oriel Malet)

Tuesday 8 May 2007

On this special day for Ireland


A special Irish poet.............Yeats..............

Monday 7 May 2007

The truth about French wine

Too much and too little wine.
Give him none, he cannot find truth; give him too much, the same."
— Blaise Pascal, Pensées, 1670

Thursday 3 May 2007

Strictly for the fellas....

How to Write the Perfect Love Letter and you know you really want to................Love letters by numbers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Maybe your heart is beating wildly or maybe it is broken.

Either way, you wish you could say what you feel, but every time you try you come up short.

Welcome to the complicated world of love. But you can take comfort in knowing that poets and statesmen have struggled with the same question--

How do I write the perfect love letter? Here are some simple guidelines that might help.


1. Presentation. Use some beautiful stationery-- a neutral, soft color, such as cream or white--and a flair pen with black or brown ink--no blues, greens or reds! Remember, your love letter is being written to someone special. Hand written letters are the best. This is personal; you are not writing a business letter.
2. Ambiance. Go to a secluded place and put on some soft, romantic music. A quiet room would be nice. Dim the lights. Get in a romantic mood.
3. Keepsake. Date your love letter (month, day, year). This is a letter that will be treasured and remembered. You can bet that it will be read over and over and safeguarded in a special place.
4. Greeting. Choose an endearing salutation. Don’t be formal. Use you love’s first name. For example: “My dearest Jennifer…”
5. Beginning. Start your love letter by telling your beloved your reasons for writing. For instance: “I have lain awake many sleepless nights trying to compose words that might adequately describe the feelings of my heart. But every time I have made the attempt I have failed miserably. Please forgive my poor effort and accept a trite and simple phrase: I love you. I think I can say it no better than this…” Never insult your beloved’s feelings or belittle yourself by saying something like: "I know you probably don't feel this way," or "You must think I'm crazy." If you are timid in your love letter, your attempt at conveying heartfelt words will fall flat and might be misunderstood.
6. Body. The body of the love letter contains reasons for your love. Here are some ideas:
recall when you fell for him/her
tell how your life changed for the better
say how you miss your beloved when you are apart
say that you can’t imagine life without him/her
list things you have in common
tell how he/she makes you feel
recall special moments you've shared together
mention times you've noticed him/her from afar
list qualities that set him/her apart from everyone else.
Avoid being erotic, casual or too light-hearted. A love letter is a letter of respect that coveys deep, difficult-to-express feelings. Don’t discount the impact of poetry in place of or in addition to your words. You can use borrowed lines or do your best. Maybe your beloved has a favorite author or poet. It’s a compliment to your beloved that you took the time to quote someone he/she admires. Be sure to give proper credit where it's due.
Be real. Your love letter should be a carefully crafted work of art, but it also needs to come across as sincere. You want your love letter to make your beloved fall in love not fall into laughter. Be sure it's the first--sincerity will ensure that. Be confident as you express your emotions, dreams and vulnerability.
NOTE: Don’t expect that your first attempt to be the letter you send. REVISE, then leave it for a few hours, then return and revise again. You’ll improve on it, guaranteed!
7. Closing. End your love letter with carefully crafted prose: “There, I have said it. I can rest now. And as I dream, I will dream of you.” Make your closing upbeat and positive.
8. Valediction (to say farewell). Don’t just end with: “Love, Eric.” Even if you said, “All my love,” it would be better. Or you become even more romantic with something like: “Dream of me my love….” What you want is a simple and tender goodbye: “ With undying love,” or “Forever yours.” Remember, you may think this is too sappy, but your loved one will treasure each word. Be prepared to have it quoted to you in years to come.
9. Insert. Include a special extra: petals from a flower, sprinkles of stars, a teabag of your favorite tea…. You get the idea. That little extra effort means you really put some thought into this.
10. Neatness counts. Gently fold the love letter and place it in a neatly addressed envelope--the same high quality as your stationary. The correct way is to fold the letter in half with the text on the inside. Place it in the envelope with the crease at the bottom and the salutation facing the back. Hand-address the envelope. Remember what your elementary teacher taught you about penmanship! Add a stamp-- affix it upside down. It is a custom that means, “I love you.” Drop the letter in the mail. That’s it! Expect an emotional response. And here’s the last tip: buy some breath mints--you’ll need them!
Popular words to use in your love letter: angel, lover, giving, alluring, sensuality, seeing, tasting, touching, holding, caressing, memories, darling, gorgeous, absence, velvet, voyage, beautiful, vision, elation, blossoms, happy, kisses, innocent, passion, dreaming, delirious, temptation, complete, desire, content, embracing, rainbow, rose, adoring, stars, privileged, heart

I've heard it all now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Robert Frost


The Road not Taken
a poem
by
Robert Frost

The Road not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road not TakenRobert Frost

Robert Frost

Mending Wall a poem by Robert Frost

MENDING WALL

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs.

The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side.

It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines,
I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors?
Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.'
I could say '.Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself.
I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

W S............

Quotes from the plays ofWilliam Shakespeare






This is dedicated to the Quotes of the great bard, with links to pages with the most famous Sonnets by Shakespeare, the Biography of Shakespeare & a list of all Plays by Shakespeare.
Quotes from the plays of William Shakespeare


The following quotes have been selected from the most famous plays of William Shakepeare. Familiar, everyday quotes will be found from plays such as Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Othello and a Midsummer Nights Dream.

Many of these famous quotes by William Shakespeare have crept into the English language and they are often used on a daily basis although most people do not appreciate that they originate from the great works of William Shakepeare. Take a look at the glance and you might find some suprises in the quotes we have selected!


Famous QuotesbyWilliam Shakespeare


Hamlet"To be, or not to be: that is the question"(Act III, Scene I)."Neither a borrower nor a lender be" (Act I, Scene III)."This above all: to thine own self be true". - (Act I, Scene III)."Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.". - (Act II, Scene II). "The lady doth protest too much, methinks". - (Act III, Scene II). "In my mind's eye". - (Act I, Scene II)."The play 's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king". - (Act II, Scene II). As You Like It"All the world 's a stage, and all the men and women merely players" (Act II, Scene VII). "Can one desire too much of a good thing?". - (Act IV, Scene I). "For ever and a day". - (Act IV, Scene I)."The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool". - (Act V, Scene I).King Richard III"Now is the winter of our discontent". - (Act I, Scene I). "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!". - (Act V, Scene IV). "So wise so young, they say, do never live long". - (Act III, Scene I). "Off with his head!" - (Act III, Scene IV). Romeo and Juliet"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?". - (Act II, Scene II)."It is the east, and Juliet is the sun" . - (Act II, Scene II)."Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." - (Act II, Scene II)."What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet". - (Act II, Scene II).The Merchant of Venice"But love is blind, and lovers cannot see"."If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?". - (Act III, Scene I)."I like not fair terms and a villain's mind". - (Act I, Scene III).The Merry Wives of Windsor"Why, then the world 's mine oyster" - (Act II, Scene II)."This is the short and the long of it". - (Act II, Scene II)."I cannot tell what the dickens his name is". - (Act III, Scene II)."As good luck would have it". - (Act III, Scene V).Measure for Measure"The miserable have no other medicine but only hope". - (Act III, Scene I).King Henry IV, Part I "He will give the devil his due". - (Act I, Scene II). "The better part of valour is discretion". - (Act V, Scene IV). King Henry IV, Part II"He hath eaten me out of house and home". - (Act II, Scene I)."Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown". - (Act III, Scene I)."A man can die but once". - (Act III, Scene II). King Henry IV, Part III"The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on". - (Act II, Scene II).King Henry the Sixth, Part I"Delays have dangerous ends". - (Act III, Scene II). "Of all base passions, fear is the most accursed". - (Act V, Scene II).King Henry the Sixth, Part II"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers". - (Act IV, Scene II)."Small things make base men proud". - (Act IV, Scene I).King Henry the Sixth, Part III"Having nothing, nothing can he lose".- (Act III, Scene III).Taming of the Shrew"I 'll not budge an inch". - (Induction, Scene I).Timon of Athens"We have seen better days". - (Act IV, Scene II).Julius Caesar"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him". - (Act III, Scene II)."But, for my own part, it was Greek to me". - (Act I, Scene II)."Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war". - (Act III, Scene I)."Et tu, Brute!" - (Act III, Scene I)."Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more". - (Act III, Scene II)."Beware the Ides of March". - (Act I, Scene II)."This was the noblest Roman of them all". - (Act V, Scene V).Macbeth"There 's daggers in men's smiles". - (Act II, Scene III)."What 's done is done".- (Act III, Scene II)."Fair is foul, and foul is fair". - (Act I, Scene I)."I bear a charmed life". - (Act V, Scene VIII). "Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness." - (Act I, Scene V)."When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done,When the battle 's lost and won". - (Act I, Scene I)."Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?" - (Act II, Scene I).King Lear"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!" - (Act I, Scene IV). Othello"‘T’is neither here nor there." - (Act IV, Scene III)."I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at". - (Act I, Scene I). Antony and Cleopatra"My salad days, when I was green in judgment." - (Act I, Scene V).Cymbeline"The game is up." - (Act III, Scene III)."I have not slept one wink.". - (Act III, Scene III).Twelfth Night"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them". - (Act II, Scene V).A Midsummer Night's Dream"The course of true love never did run smooth". - (Act I, Scene I).The Winter's Tale"You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely". - (Act I, Scene I).Taming of the Shrew"Out of the jaws of death". - (Act III, Scene IV)."Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges". - (Act V, Scene I).Troilus and Cressida"The common curse of mankind, - folly and ignorance". - (Act II, Scene III).

Bio ~ Louisa May Alcott

Concise Biography and Picture
Louisa May Alcott

Nationality - American
Lifespan - 1832 - 1888
Family - Father was Amos Bronson Alcott a schoolmasterEducation - Tutored at homeCareer - Poet, novelist, and editorFirst Published in 1852

Famous PoemsLouisa May Alcott
A Song from the Suds a poem by Louisa May AlcottThe Lay of the Golden Goose a poem by Louisa May AlcottOur Little Ghost a poem by Louisa May AlcottThe Rock and the Bubble poem Louisa May Alcott

Famous Quote by Louisa May Alcott

I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.

Louisa May Alcott

Recommended site for Famous Quotes / Quotations


Louisa May Alcott, who is often referred to as one of the great writers of children's literature, was famous for her homely books about life in America in the 19th Century. Her most celebrated novels featured the March family starting with Little Women which was published in 1868 and followed by Little Men, Good Wives and Jo's Boys.

Wednesday 2 May 2007

About Wilfred Owen by Siegfried Sassoon

Introduction

In writing an Introduction such as this it is good to be brief. The poems printed in this book need no preliminary commendations from me or anyone else. The author has left us his own fragmentary but impressive Foreword; this, and his Poems, can speak for him, backed by the authority of his experience as an infantry soldier, and sustained by nobility and originality of style. All that was strongest in Wilfred Owen survives in his poems; any superficial impressions of his personality, any records of his conversation, behaviour, or appearance, would be irrelevant and unseemly. The curiosity which demands such morsels would be incapable of appreciating the richness of his work.
The discussion of his experiments in assonance and dissonance (of which `Strange Meeting' is the finest example) may be left to the professional critics of verse, the majority of whom will be more preoccupied with such technical details than with the profound humanity of the self-revelation manifested in such magnificent lines as those at the end of his `Apologia pro Poemate Meo', and in that other poem which he named `Greater Love'.
The importance of his contribution to the literature of the War cannot be decided by those who, like myself, both admired him as a poet and valued him as a friend. His conclusions about War are so entirely in accordance with my own that I cannot attempt to judge his work with any critical detachment. I can only affirm that he was a man of absolute integrity of mind. He never wrote his poems (as so many war-poets did) to make the effect of a personal gesture. He pitied others; he did not pity himself. In the last year of his life he attained a clear vision of what he needed to say, and these poems survive him as his true and splendid testament.
Wilfred Owen was born at Oswestry on 18th March 1893. He was educated at the Birkenhead Institute, and matriculated at London University in 1910. In 1913 he obtained a private tutorship near Bordeaux, where he remained until 1915. During this period he became acquainted with the eminent French poet, Laurent Tailhade, to whom he showed his early verses, and from whom he received considerable encouragement. In 1915, in spite of delicate health, he joined the Artists' Rifles O.T.C., was gazetted to the Manchester Regiment, and served with their 2nd Battalion in France from December 1916 to June 1917, when he was invalided home. Fourteen months later he returned to the Western Front and served with the same Battalion, ultimately commanding a Company.
He was awarded the Military Cross for gallantry while taking part in some heavy fighting on 1st October. He was killed on 4th November 1918, while endeavouring to get his men across the Sambre Canal.
A month before his death he wrote to his mother: "My nerves are in perfect order. I came out again in order to help these boys; directly, by leading them as well as an officer can; indirectly, by watching their sufferings that I may speak of them as well as a pleader can." Let his own words be his epitaph: --
"Courage was mine, and I had mystery;
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery."

Siegfried Sassoon

The Send-Off

The Send-off

Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
To the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray
As men's are, dead.
Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp
Stood staring hard,
Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.
Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp
Winked to the guard.
So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
They were not ours:
We never heard to which front these were sent.
Nor there if they yet mock what women meant
Who gave them flowers.
Shall they return to beatings of great bells
In wild trainloads?
A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
May creep back, silent, to still village wells
Up half-known roads.

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Dulce Et Decorum Est

BENT double, like old beggars under sacks
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!---An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---
my friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

Autumn by John Clare

Autumn

THE thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still,
On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.
The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,
The greensward all wracked is, bent dried up and dead.
The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,
And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.
Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run;
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.

John Clare

John Clare's " I am"....

I Am!

I AM! yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

John Clare

More poetry from T.S.Eliot ~ written in 1917

Morning at the Window

THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.

T. S. Eliot