But there is a cure in the house, and not outside it, no, not from others but from them, their bloody strife. We sing to you, dark gods beneath the earth.
AeschylusAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: greek
- Born: December 30, 0524
- Died: December 31, 0455
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This is no war of chieftains or of princes, of dynasties or national ambition; it is a war of peoples and of causes. There are vast numbers, not only in this Island but in every land, who will render faithful service in this war, but whose names will never be known, whose deeds will never be recorded. This is a War of the Unknown Warriors
Winston Churchill
Your soul is a chosen landscape. Where charming masked and costumed figures go. Playing the lute and dancing and almost. Sad beneath their fantastic disguises. All sing in a minor key. Of all-conquering love and careless fortune. They do not seem to believe in their happiness. And their song mingles with the moonlight. The still moonlight, sad and beautiful, Which gives the birds to dream in the trees. And makes the fountain sprays sob in ecstasy, The tall, slender fountain sprays among the...
Paul Verlaine
