Citatepedia^®.com

I don't have technique because I never learnt any.

quote by Emma Thompson
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Soccer Under 20

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Manifesto

Blues are falling like showers of rain, but I dont feel like crying
Death himself is abroad this day, but I dont feel like dying
I learnt how to sustain myself
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
The enemy has the biggest tanks, and he sure knows how to use them
Our best, and only, chance, is to thoroughly confuse him
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Her tongue was like a scythe and all her bones were haunted
A scapegoat for her life was all she ever wanted
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Sir bedivere slept in a field, his armour strewn around him
Curled foetus-like beneath his shield, still weeping when we found him
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
I teetered on the edge of doom, degenerate and broken
She washed the blood out of my wounds, and spoke the great unspoken
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
His monstrous ego whipped and driven raged beneath his clothing
The complement he paid was given not with grace but loathing
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Deliverance is at the gate with arms and gold in store
He apologises for being late, but I dont need him anymore
I learnt how to sustain myself
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
Scoured and stripped of all pretence, shorn of all illusion
I offer nothing in my defence, you can draw your own conclusions
I learnt how to sustain myself in storms
(trans. sean miller - sean_miller@mindless.com)

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Have Learned

I’ve learnt to understand that….
A prohibitive degree of inner freedom –
Not a caprice but a strain.
Up to the end it will remain!

I’ve learnt to understand that….
The tales we dream up
We write out of our own head.
And…. we should cherish that!

I’ve learnt to break up the rules,
So that no one should be hurt.
Using my own tools,
I would like to avoid the dirt.

I’ve learnt to believe that….
There are no ideal relations.
They can be sometimes a brief,
Very often with a frustration.

I’ve learnt to feel that….
Striving for harmony I love disharmony.
Loving in everything the truth
The lies sometimes sooth.

I’ve learnt to be patient,
Though not everyone knows it.
It’s better to be absent
Than to throw a stone into a shit.

I've learnt not to be afraid of any competition,
There is only right or wrong choice,
There is only someone's ambition,
There is only strong or weak voice.

I've learnt to understand that....
Love can't be found where it doesn't live,
If love exists it can't be hidden.
A true love can't be forbidden.

I’ve learnt to understand that….
Love can't be found where it doesn't exist,
Love can't be hidden where it is.
A true love you can persist.

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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First Book

OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.

I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.

I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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The Hard Way

If I could do it all again
I wouldn't change a thing
I'd have you back the way I had you then
But one thing that I know
This time I wouldn't make you go
I'd have you back I wouldn't lose you again
But I learnt the hard way
I can't have it back what I had then
Yes I learnt the hard way
and I know I won't have that chance again

Some nights I sit on my own
with a feeling of alone
wondering if your ever coming home
but I know why your gone
I'll be the first to say I'm wrong
but it's hard to spend another night alone

Cause I learnt the hard way
I can't have it back what I had then
Yes I learnt the hard way
And I know I won't have that chance again

Yes I learnt the hard way
I can't have it back what I had then
Yes I learnt the hard way
And I know I won't have that chance again
Cause I learnt the hard way

song performed by Kasey Chambers from The Captain
Added by Lucian Velea
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Third Book

'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!

Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.

Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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A Mate can do no Wrong

We learnt the creed at Hungerford,
We learnt the creed at Bourke;
We learnt it in the good times
And learnt it out of work.
We learnt it by the harbour-side
And on the billabong:
'No matter what a mate may do,
A mate can do no wrong!'
He’s like a king in this respect
(No matter what they do),
And, king-like, shares in storm and shine
The Throne of Life with you.
We learnt it when we were in gaol
And put it in a song:
' No matter what a mate may do,
A mate can do no wrong!'
They’ll say he said a bitter word
When he’s away or dead.
We’re loyal to his memory,
No matter what he said.
And we should never hesitate,
But strike out good and strong,
And jolt the slanderer on the jaw –
A mate can do no wrong !

poem by Henry Lawson
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Bedroom Toys

Music Intro
Music Intro
You want it, You got it
You want it, You got it,
Now what you gonna do with it!
Now what you gonna do with it?
You want it, You got it
You want it, You got it,
Now what you gonna do with it!
Now what you gonna do with it?
Verse 1
Verse 1
I've been around the world
I've been around the world,
Seen alot of things
I've seen a lot of things,
That make your chicken curl,
That make your chicken curl,
Your squeezing like boys and teasing like girls
You're squeezing like boys,
Confusing like boys and girls,
And teasing like girls,
Plan an exit route,
Confusing like boys and girls,
Parachute,
Plan an exit route,
Rubber Suit,
Parachute,
Are you ready for a little swim?
Rubber suit,
There's regular,
Are you ready for a little swim?
Queen size,
There's regular queen size,
Flip it on the B side,
Flip it on the B side,
Solid Gold,
Solid Gold
Oh My God, What's This?
(Spoken)
Chorus
Oh my god what's this?
I saw the bedroom toys
Chorus
Now i'm stalling,
I can't believe my eyes,
I saw the bedroom toys,
I saw the bedroom toys,
Now i'm stalling,
Now i'm crawling,

[...] Read more

song performed by Duran Duran
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soccer Rollback

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Life a school, learning the living

Life, a school
With no class rooms
With no black boards
With no one standing before you and teaching
With no tests
With no exams
With no marks, ranks and promotions
With no books
Life, a school
And you are in the same standard or class life through

Who is teaching, but
Everyone you come across and
Everything nearby
From just born to the one waiting to depart
The leaf dancing to the tunes of the wind
The car that is speeding by your side
The plane flying up in the sky
The water flowing gently in the stream
The stars twinkling in the dark sky
The colourful horizon at the other end
The mist, cloud, smoke and emission
The small ant busy carrying a much-bigger-to-its-size dry leaf
The butterfly jumping from flower to flower
All have potentials to teach,
If you have the desire to learn

What do they teach
To remain happy ever
To help others improve their status of happiness
To keep yourself balanced in all situations
To go ahead with your work emotion free
To stay healthy and be kicking
To be special of your own
To be social and sociable
To lead and to be an active part in team
Not to lose time in dreams and wasteful thinking
Not to be lazy and lost
Not to feel unwanted
And quite a number of other things for lively living
And to apply what all you learnt
And just not remeber and pour it out for scoring marks

Who assesses performance?
You and you only
As you only know what was taught
And you only know what was learnt
The more you apply what you learnt
The better is your performance
Know your performace from

[...] Read more

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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My technique is laughable at times. I have developed a style of my own, I suppose, which creeps around [...] I don't have to have too much technique for it. I've developed the parts of my technique that are useful to me. I'll never be a very fast guitar player. I don't really know what to say about my style. There's always a melodic intent in there.

quote by David Gilmour
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I don't have a technique. I've never been a believer in having one set technique on how to act. There are no rules and there is no rulebook. At the end of the day, it all comes down to my instincts. That's the one thing that guides me through every decision professionally. Socially, also. That's my technique. Yeah, you read through the script 100 times. I guess I have little characteristics about myself. Sometimes, most often than not, once we start shooting I won't look at the script at all until we finished shooting. It's kind of like it's been imprinted in my head during rehearsals. You just let it go.

Heath Ledger in Reel.com (May 2001)
Added by Diana Frone, MTTLC
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I don't have a technique. I've never been a believer in having one set technique on how to act. There are no rules and there is no rulebook. At the end of the day, it all comes down to my instincts. That's the one thing that guides me through every decision professionally. Socially, also. That's my technique. Yeah, you read through the script 100 times. I guess I have little characteristics about myself. Sometimes, most often than not, once we start shooting I won't look at the script at all until we finished shooting. It's kind of like it's been imprinted in my head during rehearsals. You just let it go.

quote by Heath Ledger
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You cannot reconcile creativeness with technical achievement. You may be perfect in playing the piano, and not be creative. You may be able to handle color, to put paint on canvas most cleverly, and not be a creative painter...having lost the song, we pursue the singer. We learn from the singer the technique of song, but there is no song; and I say the song is essential, the joy of singing is essential. When the joy is there, the technique can be built up from nothing; you will invent your own technique, you won't have to study elocution or style. When you have, you see, and the very seeing of beauty is an art.

quote by Krishnamurti
Added by Catalin Popescu
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I Believe(From The 60's)

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.

Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.

No matter if theirs a gun in my face or not.
You will not silence my speech.
You will not rob me or my family.
No matter who you are.
I never encourage violence accept to defend oneself.
No matter the impeding army.
Or the repercussions of such actions.
It has never been about self sanctification with me.
Protect those you love.
Let only god be the one to judge.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.

Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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To be good is a technique.

Man’s business in the world is to exist;
To be good is also a technique worth.

Man’s caution in his action is safety;
To be nice is a technique well suited.

Man’s purpose in life is to have a mate;
To be kind is a technique well employed.

To be good is no more a sacrifice,
But a means adopted to stay afloat.

The rose has developed a way to thrive,
Other than the one pursued by the cactus.
20.09.2008

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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What Bells & Sex Have To Do With Each Other, A Mythic Rendering From Ancient Texts & Dreams, circa 1981

'The bells, I say, the bells outbreak their towers...
- Hart Crane, from 'The Broken Tower'

For Marianne Annur

...I will tell you of Fatima.

She is the bell,
The tintinabulum,
The veil and the will.

Then take me to her.
You can have the tapestry of streets,
The bowls of tint.

Shade the surface black
And she will emerge
The river,
The bead upon the throat,
The bread swelling,
Lifting up,

The Fertile Crescent...

1

Between the breasts and
Most of the moving parts
While she crossed the threshold
She was quite badly torn

Fatima had clusters
Mounted solidly of bronze

She said it hurt terribly

2

Fatima opened her dark eyes

...If they were with the tide
From top to lip...

She escorted me to an inner room
Where was an intricate carillon music
It is the inevitable accompaniment
She said pointing below
Come in here, my little eye

[...] Read more

poem by Warren Falcon
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Twice Times

There were Two Little Bears who lived in a Wood,
And one of them was Bad and the other was Good.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.

They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot,
And one of them was Good, and the other was Not.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies were worn right through.

They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold,
And they Did, and they Didn't Do, what they were told.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear never had his hand-ker-chee.

They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt,
And one said 'Yes'm,' and the other said 'Shan't!'
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four -
But Bad Bear's knicketies were terrible tore.

And then quite suddenly (just like Us)
One got Better and the other got Wuss.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear coughed in his hand-ker-chee!

Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies looked like new.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear never left his buttons undone.

There may be a Moral, though some say not;
I think there's a moral, though I don't know what.
But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss,
These Two Little Bears are just like Us.
For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten ...
But I keep forgetting where I put my pen.*

* So I have had to write this one in pencil.

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Nourishing My Mind

I've learnt what's required, and now I'm bored:
My mind feels the need to learn something more.
To learn new things, my heart is now yearning;
I need to keep my mind's cogwheels turning.

The information I've learnt, I need to revise;
To move on and forget it, wouldn't be wise.
For learning, I've suddenly discovered a taste;
What I've learnt so far, will not go to waste.

In learning, as a child, I possessed less interest,
But now, I'm a lot older, I am trying my best.
As an adult, I'm finding I really love to learn:
The flame, within my soul, has started to burn.

What I've learnt so far, just doesn't seem enough;
I feel ready to learn a whole lot more new stuff.
Nourishment for my mind, is what I'm needing,
So, now each and every day, more I am reading.

I need more information to help me fill the hole;
I need more information, to help achieve my goal.
With studying, I have become somewhat obsessed,
But I need to be prepared, so as I can pass the test.

I hope that all this new knowledge that I require,
Will give me the confidence to rise a little higher.
To broaden my mind, I suddenly feel really keen;
Maybe, one day, I will achieve all of my dreams.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Learning How To Rocknroll

Billy on his way to school
Didnt care too much about the teachers and rules
But he had a plan he said hed try it one day
One he knew would leave them all with nothing to say
He had a friend who said hed teach him how to rock and roll
After school when he was feelin good
Hed go home and do the things that he understood
He would rock in the kitchen and roll in the hall
And billys mother said you got no sense at all
But we know too well that he was
Learning how to rock and roll
cos he would rock in the kitchen roll in the hall
Stand on the tv and climb up the wall
Jive on the ceiling lay on the floor
Crawl through the bathroom and cry out for more
And thats the only way to do it
When youre learning how to rock and roll
Teach me to rock...
Willy turns to the mirror and gives his hair a flip
He would mime to elvis and curl his lip
Ha ha in the kitchen
Ha ha in the hall
Willys mother said you got no sense at all
But we know too well that he was
Learning how to rock and roll
cos he would rock in the kitchen roll in the hall
Stand on the tv and climb up the wall
Jive on the ceiling lay on the floor
Crawl through the bathroom and cry out for more
And thats the only way to do it
When youre learning how to rock and roll
Teach me to rock...
He learnt to rock and roll
And sing the blues
He learnt to head shake
While singing blue suede shoes
He learnt a hand clap
Off the beat
And at the gig he had them out of their seats
Its the only way to do it so long live rock and roll
cos he would rock in the kitchen roll in the hall
Stand on the tv and climb up the wall
Jive on the ceiling lay on the floor
Crawl through the bathroom and cry out for more
And thats the only way to do it
When youre learning how to rock and roll
Teach me to rock...

song performed by Cliff Richard
Added by Lucian Velea
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