Ere Quotes (displaying: 1 - 30 of 234 quotes )
ISCARIOT"A box of doves I placed beside your chest Liar A stork of silk With rubies in it's nest Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. A mare of wood Elder, elm and oak Liar Will keep you fair If you jest me no joke Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. I'm old and bruised But my fate is that of youth Liar Trickster you Be a grisly dragon's tooth Fire Of my love Will burn thee to a wizened word For ere to go unheard. You gashed the heart of my heart Like a Portuguese Witch, I'd planned for you this land But you devoured my hand.
Vladimir: What do we do now? Estragon: Wait. Vladimir: Yes, but while waiting. Estragon: What about hanging ourselves? Vladimir: Hmm. It'd give us an erection. Estragon: (highly excited). An erection! Vladimir: With all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow. That's why they shriek when you pull them up. Did you not know that? Estragon: Let's hang ourselves immediately!
The Self since the time of Descartes has been stranded, split off from everything else in the Cosmos, a mind which professes to understand bodies and galaxies but is by the very act of understanding marooned in the Cosmos, with which is has no connection. It therefore needs to exercise every option in order to reassure itself that it is not a ghost but is rather a self among other selves. One such option is a sexual encounter. Another is war. The pleasure of a sexual encounter derives not only from physical gratification but also from the demonstration to oneself that, despite one's own ghostliness, one is, for the moment at least, a sexual being. Amazing! Indeed, the most amazing of all the creatures in the Cosmos: a ghost with an erection! Yet not really amazing, for only if the abstracted ghost has an erection can it, like Jove spying Europa on the beach, enter the human condition.
Why is it that if you say you don’t enjoy using an e-reader, or that you aren’t going to get one till the technology is mature, you get reported as “loathing” it? The little Time article itself is fairly accurate about what I’ve said about e-reading, but the title of the series, “Famous Writers Who Loathe E-Books,” reflects or caters to a silly idea: that not being interested in using a particular technology is the same as hating and despising it.
I note this hound of thine, Sir Knight," he said to Garion to ease them past an embarrassing moment, "a bitch, I perceive--"Steady," Garion said firmly to the she-wolf. "That is a very offensive term," she growled."He didn't invent it. It's not his fault."...Canst thou perhaps, Sir Knight, identify her breed?"She is a wolf, my Lord," Garion told him."A wolf!" the baron exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "We must flee ere the fearsome beast fall upon us and devour us."It was a bit ostentatious, but sometimes thing like that impress people. Garion reached down and scratched the wolf's ears."...Ones advises that you stop that," the wolf told him, "unless you have a paw to spare."You wouldn't!" he exclaimed, snatching his hand back."But you're not entirely sure, are you?" She bared her teeth almost in a grin.
When I consider how my light is spent. Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide. Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent. To serve therewith my Maker, and present. My true account, lest he returning chide,"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent. That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need. Either man's work or his own gifts: who best. Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state. Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed. And post o'er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait.
TIMON Commend me to them, And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes. That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain. In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. First Senator I like this well; he will return again. TIMON I have a tree, which grows here in my close, That mine own use invites me to cut down, And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree. From high to low throughout, that whoso please. To stop affliction, let him take his haste, Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.
Friend of fatherless! Fountain of happiness! Lord of the swill-bucket! Oh, how my soul is on. Fire when I gaze at thy. Calm and commanding eye. Like the sun in the sky, Comrade Napoleon! Thou are the giver of. All thy creatures love, Full belly twice a day, clean straw to roll upon; Every beast great or small, Sleeps at peace in his stall, Thou watchest over all, Comrade Napoleon! Had I a sucking-pig, Ere he had grown as big. Even as a pint bottle or a a rolling-pin. He should have learned to be. Faithful and true to thee, Yes, his first squeak should be. Comrade Napoleon!
O love, whose lordly hand Has bridled my desires, And raised my hunger and my thirst To dignity and pride, Let not the strong in me and the constant Eat the bread or drink the wine That tempt my weaker self. Let me rather starve, And let my heart parch with thirst, And let me die and perish, Ere I stretch my hand To a cup you did not fill, Or a bowl you did not bless.
I am glad you are no relation of mine. I will never call you aunt again as long as I live. I will never come to visit you when I am grown up; and if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with miserable cruelty. . . . You think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity. I shall remember how you thrust me back . . . into the red-room. . . . And that punishment you made me suffer because your wicked boy struck me—knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody who asks me questions this exact tale. ’Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, with the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt. It seemed as if an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled out into unhoped-for liberty. . . .
I gave, at first, attention close; Then interest warm ensued; From interest, as improvement rose, Succeeded gratitude. 'Obedience was no effort soon, And labour was no pain; If tired, a word, a glance alone Would give me strength again. 'From others of the studious band Ere long he singled me, But only by more close demand And sterner urgency. 'The task he from another took, From me he did reject; He would no slight omission brook And suffer no defect. 'If my companions went astray, He scarce their wanderings blamed. If I but faltered in the way His anger fiercely flamed.
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here. While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck. Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.