The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits;- on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Matthew ArnoldRead
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits;- on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
And each day brings it's pretty dust, Our soon-choked souls to fll And we forget because we must, And not because we will.
It is almost impossible to exaggerate the proneness of the human mind to take miracles as evidence, and to seek for miracles as evidence.
To have the sense of creative activity is the great happiness and the great proof of being alive.
Nature, with equal mind, Sees all her sons at play, Sees man control the wind, The wind sweep man away.
Culture, the acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit.
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