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Ralph Macchio

My teen years were a blur. I was following my dreams, and falling into unbelievable roles. I forgot for a minute that it was a gift, not a right, and had to take some time to re-humble myself.

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Minute By Minute

Michael mcdonald/lester abrams
Hey, dont worry, Ive been lied to
Ive been here many times before
Girl, dont you worry, I know where I stand
I dont need this love, I dont need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and youd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin
Wilt away on lies from you
Cant stop the habit of livin on the run
I take it all for granted like youre the only one
Livin on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think Im your fool
Well, you may just be right
cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and Ill be gone
Youll reach out and I wont be there
Just my luck youll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
Ill be holding on...

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Minute By Minute (Dobbie Brothers)

(Michael McDonaldLester Abrams)
Hey, don't worry, I've been lied to
I've been here many times before
Girl, don't you worry, I know where I stand
I don't need this love, I don't need your hand
I know I could turn, blink, and you'd be gone
Then I must be prepared any time to carry on
But minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
You will stay just to watch me, darlin'
Wilt away on lies from you
Can't stop the habit of livin' on the run
I take it all for granted like you're the only one
Livin' on my own
Somehow that sounds nice
You think I'm your fool
Well, you may just be right
'Cause minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I keep holding on
Call my name and I'll be gone
You'll reach out and I won't be there
Just my luck you'll realize
You should spend your life with someone
You could spend your life with someone
Minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on
Oh, minute by minute by minute by minute
I'll be holding on...

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Be There

You dont wanna go there
Let me lead you by the hand
You dont wanna be there
Over the sea and down to land
As I look into your eyes
I pay no mind
I found the way
To get inside you
Id give you peace of mind
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling beautiful
The same
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling beautiful
Sometimes
You dont wanna go there
Let me lead you by the hand
You dont wanna be there
Over the sea and down to land
As I look into your eyes
I pay no mind
I found the way
To get inside you
Id give you peace of mind
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling beautiful
The same
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling beautiful
Sometimes
Here and again
And there youre
Falling, falling, falling,
Falling, falling, falling
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling beautiful
The same
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling,
I dont see you falling beautiful
Sometimes
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling?
Am I see you falling beautiful
The same

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Forgetchu 4 a Minute

You like to give it like it's being regulated.
And...
Then you want to send it in a memo to me.

You like to give it like it's being regulated.
And...
Then you want to send it in a memo to me.

Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
And flick you like some lint!

Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Then flick you like some lint!
Since you pay no rent,
4 me!

You like to give it like it's being regulated.
And...
Then you want to send it in a memo to me.

You like to give it like it's being regulated.
And...
Then you want to send it in a memo to me.

Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
And flick you like some lint!

Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Then flick you like some lint!
Since you pay no rent,
4 me!

Owwwww!

Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
And flick you like some lint!

Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.
Forgetchu 4 a minute.
Gon' forgetchu 4 a minute.

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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.


II.

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The Door Of Humility

ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;

But natured only to rejoice
At every sound or sign of hope,
And, guided by the still small voice,
In patience through the darkness grope;

Until our finer sense expands,
And we exchange for holier sight
The earthly help of voice and hands,
And in His light behold the Light.

I

Let there be Light! The self-same Power
That out of formless dark and void
Endued with life's mysterious dower
Planet, and star, and asteroid;

That moved upon the waters' face,
And, breathing on them His intent,
Divided, and assigned their place
To, ocean, air, and firmament;

That bade the land appear, and bring
Forth herb and leaf, both fruit and flower,
Cattle that graze, and birds that sing,
Ordained the sunshine and the shower;

That, moulding man and woman, breathed
In them an active soul at birth
In His own image, and bequeathed
To them dominion over Earth;

That, by whatever is, decreed
His Will and Word shall be obeyed,
From loftiest star to lowliest seed;-
The worm and me He also made.

And when, for nuptials of the Spring
With Summer, on the vestal thorn
The bridal veil hung flowering,
A cry was heard, and I was born.

II

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The Loves of the Angels

'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.

Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!

One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!

Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest

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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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Counting Every Minute

Gonna break these chains
Gonna set myself free
Gonna turn on the mains
Feel the power inside of me
Gonna burn all night--gonna burn all day
Youll see me coming
From miles away
Feel me in the air
Feel me all around you
Gonna show you how I care
Teach you something new
Im gonna take my time
Make love to you
Yeah I know I can satisfy you
Thats what I intend to do
Now Im counting every minute
Every single minute
Im calling for you, honey
Come and get it while its hot
Counting every minute
Ooh Im living it
Ill make every minute count
Give it everything Ive got
Feel me getting closer
Im almost there
Can you fell my fingers
Running through your hair
Can you feel my hands
Draw you closer to me
Can you hear that clock tick, tick, ticking baby
Ill soon be there to set you free
Im counting every minute
Every single minute
Dont fool around come and
Get it while its hot
Counting every minute
Ooh Im living in it
Ill make every minute count
Give it everything Ive got
Counting every minute
Every single minute
Im calling for you, honey
Come and get it while its hot
Counting every minute
Ooh Im gonna give it
Ill give it to you honey
Ill give you everything
Ive got
Yeah Im counting every minute
Every single minute

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Byron

Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow

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poem by from Aurora Leigh (1856)Report problemRelated quotes
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Twin State

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Falling In Love

Two of hearts, lace and satin, something in the air
Feel like another crok that's been captured by your stare
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Jealous feelings, reappearing, such a wicked dare
I'm just so damned confused and i wonder, do you care?
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Like walking in the park
Or dancing in the dark
Just wanna hold you through out the night
Prince of fire, sweet desire, with devil may you care
Release me from your spell
I don't want this, love ain't fair
I'm falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again uh-oh, uh-oh, and i don't wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling

song performed by Gloria EstefanReport problemRelated quotes
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Falling In Love (Uh-Oh)

Two of hearts, lace and satin, something in the air
Feel like another crok thats been captured by your stare
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and I dont wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Jealous feelings, reappearing, such a wicked dare
Im just so damned confused and I wonder, do you care?
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, and I dont wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Like walking in the park
Or dancing in the dark
Just wanna hold you through out the night
Prince of fire, sweet desire, with devil may you care
Release me from your spell
I dont want this, love aint fair
Im falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh
Falling in love
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again uh-oh, uh-oh, and I dont wanna no, no, no
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling in love, falling in love again
Uh-oh, uh-oh, falling, falling

song performed by Gloria EstefanReport problemRelated quotes
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

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poem by from The Ring and the BookReport problemRelated quotes
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Ive Been Thinking About You

- m. carey - d. cole - r. civils -
Uh baby
Weve known each other
For a long long time
But I never really noticed
All the magic in your eyes
Ive been around you
A thousand times before
And youve always been a friend to me
But now Im wanting more
I must have been so blind
I never realized
Youre the one thats right for me
All the while I couldnt see
And now I feel so strange
Ill never be the same
Going round and round in circles
And I dont know what to do
cause baby
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Theres no explaining how I feel inside
Im going thru a transformation
Thats so hard for me to hide
I had a revelation that
Finally opened up my eyes
The one I spent a lifetime searching for
Was right here all the time
I was oblivious so very out of touch
All the while I couldnt see
Youre the one thats right for me
And now my world has changed
Ill never be the same
Going round and round in circles
And its all because of you
Sweet baby
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me
But suddenly I think
Im falling in love with you
Ive been thinking about you
In the most peculiar way
Ive been thinking about you
Its unbelievable to me

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song performed by Mariah CareyReport problemRelated quotes
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