Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.sunplus.co.jp)
Date: 03-22-06 18:32
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LVII
Being your slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.
--William Shakespeare
Art is a way of expression that has to be understood by everyone,
everywhere.
Rufino Tamayo, artist
An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the
poultry.
T. S. Eliot
Conversation in real life is full of half-finished sentences and
overlapping talk. Why shouldn\'t painting be too?
Edgar Degas