In certain kinds of writing, particularly in art criticism and literary criticism, it is normal to come across long passages which are almost completely lacking in meaning.
George OrwellAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: british
- Born: June 25, 1903
- Died: January 21, 1950
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The reduction of the universe to the compass of a single being, and the extension of a single being until it reaches God - that is love. Love is the salute of the angels to the stars. How sad is the heart when rendered sad by love! How great is the void created by the absence of the being who alone fills the world.
Victor Hugo
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony, Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal. That grief for which the senses still supply Fresh food; for only then, when memory. Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain those busy cares that would allay my pain; Oh! Leave me to myself, nor let me feel. The officious touch that makes me droop again.
William Wordsworth