Character is much easier kept than recovered.
classic quote by Thomas Paine
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Most Complex Of All The Symptoms Of Impossible Loving...
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of enchantment waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of enchantment waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of refinement waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of refinement waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of threshold waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of threshold waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of splendour waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of splendour waiting to be discovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of enchantment waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of enchantment waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of refinement waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of refinement waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of threshold waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of threshold waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new kind of splendour waiting to be recovered
Flowing secretly between heaven and earth always is
A new form of splendour waiting to be recovered...
SÃO PAULO_JUN/2006
poem by Hedilberto Ferreirah
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Did You Pass or Fail?
Why is it easier to be arrogant?
Why is it easier to be cruel?
Why is it easier to be evil?
Why is it easier to hurt?
Why is it easier to an asshole?
Why is it easier to victimize?
Why is it easier to abuse?
Why is it easier to use?
Why is it easier to be greedy?
Why is it easier to be selfish?
Why is it easier to be self centered?
Why is it easier to steal?
Why is it easier to manipulate?
Why is it easier to lie?
My thoughts is it is a test to all man kind
Did you pass or fail?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
My Old Lover
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
No!
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
I find you right here on my mind,
When under covers.
I find I'm giving you my time,
When with another.
Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...
But another!
I sleep with.
And here,
As my lover.
I find you right here on my mind,
When with another.
I find I'm giving you my time,
With another lover.
Why are you on my mind?
When you told me to find,
Another...
To discover,
Since we didn't have each other.
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
No!
I've yet not recovered...
From you,
My old lover.
Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...
But another!
I sleep with.
And here,
As my lover.
Although there's someone new.
Someone that is not you...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Nature
Weather constantly changes.
No character, only dynamic.
Dull and dreary,
Or bitter and cold,
Or bright and shiny.
This is mother nature.
She is of this world.
She dictates the mood.
She affects mine.
Emotions, constantly changing.
Personality has dynamic,
But lacks character.
It is constantly changing.
Bitter and resentful,
Frustrated and annoyed
Happy & joyous.
This is human nature.
It is of this world.
It dictates our mood.
It affects another.
Mother nature cannot be controlled.
For she is not ours.
Yet mother nature controls me,
Though I am not hers.
Together, we must exist.
We must accept each as we both are.
Though one affects the other.
Based on emotion, not character.
During the storm,
The sky is still the sky,
The ground, is still the ground
The sun is still the sun.
This is the character of mother nature.
The snow may cover the ground,
But the ground remains.
The clouds may cover the sun,
But the sun remains.
Character is always constant.
Nature affects character.
Character is patience, kindness,
Compassion, empathy, forgiving.
Plain and simple,
Our character is love.
Human nature covers human character,
Although it might not be seen,
It still remains.
[...] Read more
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It Was Easier To Hurt Him
(jerry ragavoy / bert russell)
I should have told him
That I needed him
When I had the chance
And now hes left me
And its all over
Goodbye romance
I should have told him then
Over and over again
That I love him
But, it was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him, ooh
It was easier to hurt him
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart
The way I cheated him
And mistreated him
How could I forget?
I was so sure that he
Would always trust in me
Oh, that Id take a bet, no, no, no
Hed never say goodbye
But here all alone am i
He is gone now, ahh, cause
It was easier to hurt him
What could I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
Thats what I thought
Was being so smart, oh, oh
It was easier to hurt him
I need him so bad
(it was) easier to hurt him
What did I do?
(it was) easier to hurt him
I should have known better
(it was) easier to hurt him
I need him so bad
song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
See Yourself
Its easier to tell a lie than it is to tell the truth
Its easier to kill a fly than it is to turn it loose
Its easier to criticize somebody else
Than to see yourself
Its easier to give a sigh and be like all the rest
Who stand around and crucify you while you do your best
Its easier to see the books upon the shelf
Than to see yourself
Its easier to hurt someone and make them cry
Than it is to dry their eyes
I got tired of fooling around with other peoples lies
Rather Id find someone thats true
Its easier to say you wont than it is to feel you can
Its easier to drag your feet than it is to be a man
Its easier to look at someone eless wealth
Than to see yourself
song performed by George Harrison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Easier To Run
Its easier to run
Replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Something has been taken from deep inside of me
The secret Ive been locked away where one could never see
Look so different, never show,
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
? ?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Some things I remember but thought the soul bypassed
Bringing back these memories I wish I didnt have
Sometimes I think Im letting go and never looking back
I never really thought so, I never realized?
[mikes part]
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame and the pain I would
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all the shame and the blame
Just watch it in the sun
All of the helplessness as ive
Pretending I dont feel misplaced
Its so much simpler to change
Its easier to run replacing this pain with something long
Its so much easier to run
Replace all this pain here all alone
Its easier to run
If I could change I would
Take all the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made
[...] Read more
song performed by Linkin Park
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
O-o-h Child
(1970) stan vincent
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Someday well get it toghether and well get it undone
Someday when the world is much brighter
Someday well walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Someday when the world is much lighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
O-o-h child things are gonna get easier
O-o-h child things ll get brighter
Right now right now
song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
You Aint Got The Right
(locorriere/sawyer/haffkine)
You aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
I woke up monday morning
With the feeling he was gone
And I turned to face an empty place and I realized
That I didnt smell no coffee and all his pretty clothes were gone
I cried the first of the many tears youll see me crying from now on
And you aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
I know his list of lovers was just as long as mine
But the sometime friend of a natural woman is to settle down
But the one time ways of that man
Have done busted up my mind
Now hes out the door, hes got one more
On his list than I got on mine
And you aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
Well, its gonna be a long time before I pass this way again
I been dragged through school and Ive learned the rules
And it seems to me
That a manll love to fool ya
And he wont always fool you nice
Yes he had his turn, I guess Ive learned
And no he aint gonna fool me twice
And you still aint got the right to tell me Im not lonely
You dont understand what Ive been through
He had every right to do the wrong that he done to me
But that dont make it easier to lose
No that dont make it easier to lose
song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Follow The Format
make a big scene
make this glass house my coffin
you missed the big picture
well its the words that youre coughing out on your sleeve
so forge my sins here in song
well i'm telling you now what youve known all along
and its tired, so true, more subtle than you
theres a lull in the stereo
its calling for you (calling for you)
its calling for you
well i'm a slave to my vices (its true)
theyve all been renamed as a crutch
so drag my name and my face through the mud
flattery can flatter me (flattery can flatter me)
showing just how vicious you could be
do what you came here to do (do what you came here to do)
trigger finger gets you pointed in the right direction
my new found discretion
its not a lie if you believe it
its no mistake if its always repeated
its not a lie if you believe it
its no mistake if its always repeated
shall we call it quits or just wait? (its not a lie if you believe it)
even, even if my last name rhymes with your rescue of hear say
do not say you know (its no mistake if its repeated)
call me out
its not a lie (its such a lie)
but I dont need to hear it from you
so whats another word for (i dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (i dont need to hear it from you)
whats another word for (dont need to hear it from you)
it gets easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
easier with doses of time (easier with doses of time)
Show us just how vicious you could be
song performed by Taking Back Sunday
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Difficulties with women
It’s difficult to dress a woman
According to her wish,
It’s easier to undress a woman
Against her wish.
It’s difficult to argue with a woman
Because she is always right,
It’s easier to agree with her
Without any fight.
It’s difficult to find the words
A woman would like to hear,
It’s easier to keep silent
If you want to be her dear.
It’s difficult to guess her mood
So that to be understood,
It’s easier to tell her a funny story
And once more to say: sorry.
It’s difficult to explain
How much you miss her
It’s easier to give her a kiss
For her to remember you and miss.
[...] Read more
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Somme-France 1916, From A 15 Year Olds Perspective
They said welcome to the warzone kid,
Now run along and don't get killed,
War was easier said then done,
With shrapnel flying,
And your best mates dying
War was easier said then done,
We're disadvantaged, The Boche have Hill 60, that very important mound,
I wish i was at home, safe and sound,
War was easier said then done,
The trenches are dirty, cold and wet,
I can't take off my boots, in mud they're set,
War was easier said then done,
You never know if your next breath will be your last,
Use your legs, run and run fast,
War was easier said then done,
I've only been here for about one week,
I'm still alive, so i guess this is a winning streak?
War was easier said then done,
My bayonet is bloody and red,
I'm glad it's him and not me that is dead
War was easier said then done...
poem by Harrison Bishop
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Berenice by edgar allan poe
MISERY is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch, -as distinct too, yet as intimately blended. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow! How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? -from the covenant of peace a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been.
My baptismal name is Egaeus; that of my family I will not mention. Yet there are no towers in the land more time-honored than my gloomy, gray, hereditary halls. Our line has been called a race of visionaries; and in many striking particulars -in the character of the family mansion -in the frescos of the chief saloon -in the tapestries of the dormitories -in the chiselling of some buttresses in the armory -but more especially in the gallery of antique paintings -in the fashion of the library chamber -and, lastly, in the very peculiar nature of the library's contents, there is more than sufficient evidence to warrant the belief.
The recollections of my earliest years are connected with that chamber, and with its volumes -of which latter I will say no more. Here died my mother. Herein was I born. But it is mere idleness to say that I had not lived before -that the soul has no previous existence. You deny it? -let us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek not to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms -of spiritual and meaning eyes -of sounds, musical yet sad -a remembrance which will not be excluded; a memory like a shadow, vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady; and like a shadow, too, in the impossibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my reason shall exist.
In that chamber was I born. Thus awaking from the long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at once into the very regions of fairy-land -into a palace of imagination -into the wild dominions of monastic thought and erudition -it is not singular that I gazed around me with a startled and ardent eye -that I loitered away my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in reverie; but it is singular that as years rolled away, and the noon of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers -it is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs of my life -wonderful how total an inversion took place in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn, -not the material of my every-day existence-but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.
Berenice and I were cousins, and we grew up together in my paternal halls. Yet differently we grew -I ill of health, and buried in gloom -she agile, graceful, and overflowing with energy; hers the ramble on the hill-side -mine the studies of the cloister -I living within my own heart, and addicted body and soul to the most intense and painful meditation -she roaming carelessly through life with no thought of the shadows in her path, or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours. Berenice! -I call upon her name -Berenice! -and from the gray ruins of memory a thousand tumultuous recollections are startled at the sound! Ah! vividly is her image before me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and joy! Oh! gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh! sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim! -Oh! Naiad among its fountains! -and then -then all is mystery and terror, and a tale which should not be told. Disease -a fatal disease -fell like the simoom upon her frame, and, even while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change swept, over her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character, and, in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing even the identity of her person! Alas! the destroyer came and went, and the victim -where was she, I knew her not -or knew her no longer as Berenice.
Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin, may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in its nature, a species of epilepsy not unfrequently terminating in trance itself -trance very nearly resembling positive dissolution, and from which her manner of recovery was in most instances, startlingly abrupt. In the mean time my own disease -for I have been told that I should call it by no other appelation -my own disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary form -hourly and momently gaining vigor -and at length obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed the attentive. It is more than probable that I am not understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.
To muse for long unwearied hours with my attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin, or in the topography of a book; to become absorbed for the better part of a summer's day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant upon the tapestry, or upon the door; to lose myself for an entire night in watching the steady flame of a lamp, or the embers of a fire; to dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower; to repeat monotonously some common word, until the sound, by dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind; to lose all sense of motion or physical existence, by means of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately persevered in; -such were a few of the most common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental faculties, not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding defiance to anything like analysis or explanation.
Yet let me not be misapprehended. -The undue, earnest, and morbid attention thus excited by objects in their own nature frivolous, must not be confounded in character with that ruminating propensity common to all mankind, and more especially indulged in by persons of ardent imagination. It was not even, as might be at first supposed, an extreme condition or exaggeration of such propensity, but primarily and essentially distinct and different. In the one instance, the dreamer, or enthusiast, being interested by an object usually not frivolous, imperceptibly loses sight of this object in a wilderness of deductions and suggestions issuing therefrom, until, at the conclusion of a day dream often replete with luxury, he finds the incitamentum or first cause of his musings entirely vanished and forgotten. In my case the primary object was invariably frivolous, although assuming, through the medium of my distempered vision, a refracted and unreal importance. Few deductions, if any, were made; and those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original object as a centre. The meditations were never pleasurable; and, at the termination of the reverie, the first cause, so far from being out of sight, had attained that supernaturally exaggerated interest which was the prevailing feature of the disease. In a word, the powers of mind more particularly exercised were, with me, as I have said before, the attentive, and are, with the day-dreamer, the speculative.
My books, at this epoch, if they did not actually serve to irritate the disorder, partook, it will be perceived, largely, in their imaginative and inconsequential nature, of the characteristic qualities of the disorder itself. I well remember, among others, the treatise of the noble Italian Coelius Secundus Curio 'de Amplitudine Beati Regni dei'; St. Austin's great work, the 'City of God'; and Tertullian 'de Carne Christi, ' in which the paradoxical sentence 'Mortuus est Dei filius; credible est quia ineptum est: et sepultus resurrexit; certum est quia impossibile est' occupied my undivided time, for many weeks of laborious and fruitless investigation.
Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that ocean-crag spoken of by Ptolemy Hephestion, which steadily resisting the attacks of human violence, and the fiercer fury of the waters and the winds, trembled only to the touch of the flower called Asphodel. And although, to a careless thinker, it might appear a matter beyond doubt, that the alteration produced by her unhappy malady, in the moral condition of Berenice, would afford me many objects for the exercise of that intense and abnormal meditation whose nature I have been at some trouble in explaining, yet such was not in any degree the case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity, her calamity, indeed, gave me pain, and, taking deeply to heart that total wreck of her fair and gentle life, I did not fall to ponder frequently and bitterly upon the wonder-working means by which so strange a revolution had been so suddenly brought to pass. But these reflections partook not of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were such as would have occurred, under similar circumstances, to the ordinary mass of mankind. True to its own character, my disorder revelled in the less important but more startling changes wrought in the physical frame of Berenice -in the singular and most appalling distortion of her personal identity.
During the brightest days of her unparalleled beauty, most surely I had never loved her. In the strange anomaly of my existence, feelings with me, had never been of the heart, and my passions always were of the mind. Through the gray of the early morning -among the trellised shadows of the forest at noonday -and in the silence of my library at night, she had flitted by my eyes, and I had seen her -not as the living and breathing Berenice, but as the Berenice of a dream -not as a being of the earth, earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being-not as a thing to admire, but to analyze -not as an object of love, but as the theme of the most abstruse although desultory speculation. And now -now I shuddered in her presence, and grew pale at her approach; yet bitterly lamenting her fallen and desolate condition, I called to mind that she had loved me long, and, in an evil moment, I spoke to her of marriage.
And at length the period of our nuptials was approaching, when, upon an afternoon in the winter of the year, -one of those unseasonably warm, calm, and misty days which are the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon*, -I sat, (and sat, as I thought, alone,) in the inner apartment of the library. But uplifting my eyes I saw that Berenice stood before me.
*For as Jove, during the winter season, gives twice seven days of warmth, men have called this clement and temperate time the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon -Simonides.
Was it my own excited imagination -or the misty influence of the atmosphere -or the uncertain twilight of the chamber -or the gray draperies which fell around her figure -that caused in it so vacillating and indistinct an outline? I could not tell. She spoke no word, I -not for worlds could I have uttered a syllable. An icy chill ran through my frame; a sense of insufferable anxiety oppressed me; a consuming curiosity pervaded my soul; and sinking back upon the chair, I remained for some time breathless and motionless, with my eyes riveted upon her person. Alas! its emaciation was excessive, and not one vestige of the former being, lurked in any single line of the contour. My burning glances at length fell upon the face.
The forehead was high, and very pale, and singularly placid; and the once jetty hair fell partially over it, and overshadowed the hollow temples with innumerable ringlets now of a vivid yellow, and Jarring discordantly, in their fantastic character, with the reigning melancholy of the countenance. The eyes were lifeless, and lustreless, and seemingly pupil-less, and I shrank involuntarily from their glassy stare to the contemplation of the thin and shrunken lips. They parted; and in a smile of peculiar meaning, the teeth of the changed Berenice disclosed themselves slowly to my view. Would to God that I had never beheld them, or that, having done so, I had died!
The shutting of a door disturbed me, and, looking up, I found that my cousin had departed from the chamber. But from the disordered chamber of my brain, had not, alas! departed, and would not be driven away, the white and ghastly spectrum of the teeth. Not a speck on their surface -not a shade on their enamel -not an indenture in their edges -but what that period of her smile had sufficed to brand in upon my memory. I saw them now even more unequivocally than I beheld them then. The teeth! -the teeth! -they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long, narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible development. Then came the full fury of my monomania, and I struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible influence. In the multiplied objects of the external world I had no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed with a phrenzied desire. All other matters and all different interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They -they alone were present to the mental eye, and they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I held them in every light. I turned them in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics. I dwelt upon their peculiarities. I pondered upon their conformation. I mused upon the alteration in their nature. I shuddered as I assigned to them in imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and even when unassisted by the lips, a capability of moral expression. Of Mad'selle Salle it has been well said, 'que tous ses pas etaient des sentiments, ' and of Berenice I more seriously believed que toutes ses dents etaient des idees. Des idees! -ah here was the idiotic thought that destroyed me! Des idees! -ah therefore it was that I coveted them so madly! I felt that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace, in giving me back to reason.
And the evening closed in upon me thus-and then the darkness came, and tarried, and went -and the day again dawned -and the mists of a second night were now gathering around -and still I sat motionless in that solitary room; and still I sat buried in meditation, and still the phantasma of the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy as, with the most vivid hideous distinctness, it floated about amid the changing lights and shadows of the chamber. At length there broke in upon my dreams a cry as of horror and dismay; and thereunto, after a pause, succeeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled with many low moanings of sorrow, or of pain. I arose from my seat and, throwing open one of the doors of the library, saw standing out in the antechamber a servant maiden, all in tears, who told me that Berenice was -no more. She had been seized with epilepsy in the early morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant, and all the preparations for the burial were completed.
I found myself sitting in the library, and again sitting there alone. It seemed that I had newly awakened from a confused and exciting dream. I knew that it was now midnight, and I was well aware that since the setting of the sun Berenice had been interred. But of that dreary period which intervened I had no positive -at least no definite comprehension. Yet its memory was replete with horror -horror more horrible from being vague, and terror more terrible from ambiguity. It was a fearful page in the record my existence, written all over with dim, and hideous, and unintelligible recollections. I strived to decypher them, but in vain; while ever and anon, like the spirit of a departed sound, the shrill and piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to be ringing in my ears. I had done a deed -what was it? I asked myself the question aloud, and the whispering echoes of the chamber answered me, 'what was it? '
On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near it lay a little box. It was of no remarkable character, and I had seen it frequently before, for it was the property of the family physician; but how came it there, upon my table, and why did I shudder in regarding it? These things were in no manner to be accounted for, and my eyes at length dropped to the open pages of a book, and to a sentence underscored therein. The words were the singular but simple ones of the poet Ebn Zaiat, 'Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas.' Why then, as I perused them, did the hairs of my head erect themselves on end, and the blood of my body become congealed within my veins?
There came a light tap at the library door, and pale as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he? -some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the silence of the night -of the gathering together of the household-of a search in the direction of the sound; -and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave -of a disfigured body enshrouded, yet still breathing, still palpitating, still alive!
He pointed to garments; -they were muddy and clotted with gore. I spoke not, and he took me gently by the hand; -it was indented with the impress of human nails. He directed my attention to some object against the wall; -I looked at it for some minutes; -it was a spade. With a shriek I bounded to the table, and grasped the box that lay upon it. But I could not force it open; and in my tremor it slipped from my hands, and fell heavily, and burst into pieces; and from it, with a rattling sound, there rolled out some instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with thirty-two small, white and ivory-looking substances that were scattered to and fro about the floor.
poem by Erie Morganmaples
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Clergyman’s Second Tale
Edward and Jane a married couple were,
And fonder she of him or he of her
Was hard to say; their wedlock had begun
When in one year they both were twenty-one;
And friends, who would not sanction, left them free.
He gentle-born, nor his inferior she,
And neither rich; to the newly-wedded boy,
A great Insurance Office found employ.
Strong in their loves and hopes, with joy they took
This narrow lot and the world’s altered look;
Beyond their home they nothing sought or craved,
And even from the narrow income saved;
Their busy days for no ennui had place,
Neither grew weary of the other’s face.
Nine happy years had crowned their married state
With children, one a little girl of eight;
With nine industrious years his income grew,
With his employers rose his favour too;
Nine years complete had passed when something ailed,
Friends and the doctors said his health had failed,
He must recruit, or worse would come to pass;
And though to rest was hard for him, alas!
Three months of leave he found he could obtain,
And go, they said, get well and work again.
Just at this juncture of their married life,
Her mother, sickening, begged to have his wife.
Her house among the hills in Surrey stood,
And to be there, said Jane, would do the children good.
They let their house, and with the children she
Went to her mother, he beyond the sea;
Far to the south his orders were to go.
A watering-place, whose name we need not know,
For climate and for change of scene was best:
There he was bid, laborious task, to rest.
A dismal thing in foreign lands to roam
To one accustomed to an English home,
Dismal yet more, in health if feeble grown,
To live a boarder, helpless and alone
In foreign town, and worse yet worse is made,
If ’tis a town of pleasure and parade.
Dispiriting the public walks and seats,
The alien faces that an alien meets;
Drearily every day this old routine repeats.
Yet here this alien prospered, change of air
Or change of scene did more than tenderest care:
Three weeks were scarce completed, to his home,
He wrote to say, he thought he now could come,
His usual work was sure he could resume,
And something said about the place’s gloom,
And how he loathed idling his time away.
[...] Read more
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough from Mari Magno or Tales on Board
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet- Which Is Easier?
Which is easier, to shave off your face-hair
Or to maintain a long and flowing beard?
Which is easier, to cycle like a hare,
Or to trudge your way uphill with the herd?
Which is easier, to float the logs downstream,
Or to tusk them one by one to the mill?
Which is easier, to shoot lion in dream,
Or to fight it in its den and to kil1?
Which is easier, to break a whole mountain,
Or to make it crumble into small stones?
Which is easier, to set a lit fountain,
Or to produce a grave of human bones?
Unnatural things are quite easy to do,
Natural ones sometimes, impossible too.
poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Which is easier?
Which is easier, to shave off your face-hair
Or to maintain a long and flowing beard?
Which is easier, to cycle like a hare,
Or to trudge your way uphill with the herd?
Which is easier, to float the logs downstream,
Or to tusk them one by one to the mill?
Which is easier, to shoot lion in dream,
Or to fight it in its den and to kil1?
Which is easier, to break a whole mountain,
Or to make it crumble into small stones?
Which is easier, to set a lit fountain,
Or to produce a grave of human bones?
Unnatural things are quite easy to do,
Natural ones sometimes, impossible too.
poem by John Celes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
She Left On A Monday
She left on a Monday
She's a siren down the road
In your herringbone overcoat
That you don't expect to get back
And it's an ordinary sky
Today's like any other day
When all of the aeroplanes
Write her name in the clouds
And nothing's wrong
But it's already Sunday
And you know just how Sunday
Was the day that she would come around?
Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her
It's all like sinking
You're trying to stay afloat
Like a wind blown paper boat
Over uncharted sea
There's no question why
You're driving to kill some time
Racing the power lines
Back into town
Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her
Go to her foolish man
What's the use of having pride if you don't have her?
She'll endure all she can
But you could make this easier on her
Make this easier on her
Make this easier on her
Make this easier on her
song performed by Bic Runga from Beautiful Collision
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Rear View Mirror
Uh Yeah
A Keys
Rear View
Uh Oh Uh Oh
Uh Oh Uh Oh
AK 2000
Oh Uh Oh
It happened quickly
All of a sudden
I was caught up with another man
Who wanted
To be closer
But now
I know better and I'm
Hoping
We Can
Start Again
I know that there's nothing for me what I have done
So
Let me show how deep my love goes
For you
Cos you'll really live and learn and that's how you find out who is true
And I found out that you were the one
I was deceived
Baby please forgive me
Don't know what we had to change
It's easier for us to get further
Don't look in the rear view mirror
Now that we are
Back again together
I want to show you
How I'm made from heaven
I'll do my best to shower
You with a bit of 'tention
Don't ever have to mention
This song if it ends
I know that there's nothing for me what I have done
So
Let me show how deep my love goes
For you
Cuz you'll really live and learn and that's how you find out who is true
And I found out that you were the one
I was deceived
Baby please forgive me
Don't know what we had to change
It's easier for us to get further
Don't look in the rear view mirror
I can't change what I had done before
But now I know that you love me so much more
Than anything that had ever come my way
[...] Read more
song performed by Alicia Keys
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Idea Track
Dear Hugh Miller
Ive thought it through for a while but it doesnt get any easier
And three months on in this bad design wont make it feel any easier
Your grave, its your grave
Dear Hugh Miller
Its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Dear Hugh Miller,
its four months now from when we started and nothing feels much easier.
I sit and stare in a cork tiled room and it doesnt get much easier.
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
Your grave, its your grave
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (you dont try)
Pretend it works a while, its transmitted live
Pretend it works a while (dont try)
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
I dont care if I dont have an idea track, its an idea track, its an idea
Your grave, its your grave.
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Make It Easier
Im in search of greener pastures
Dont like my gardens what I said
Although Im working harder than last year
Im still deep in the red
I am rowing as hard as I can
And theyre selling me up a stream
Im always one more step away
From the american dream
I got a chip on my shoulder
About the size of a mental block
Ive got someone on the telephone
Trying to sell me a future in stock
Maybe I work too hard to be happy
And I should practice letting go
But its hard not to rock the boat
When youre sailing against the undertow
I want to slide into the black
And wear the black mask
I might not get what I lack
But it doesnt hurt to ask
If I want to sail
I need my life to be breezier
I said please God or someone
Make it easier
I went to sunday school every sunday
Swallowed the bait and I got the hook
When I needed something someday
I would read the good book
Tell me what does it take to get ahead
Sometimes I know Id sell my soul
When it looks like everybody else is flying
And Im crawling in the hole
Well maybe if I open my own business
Maybe if I buy a lottery ticket
Someone tell me what is the secret
To getting out of the thicket
Give me more than just a sample
I need a whole lot of glory
My life become an example
Of the american success story
I want to slide into the black
And wear the black mask
I might not get what I lack
But it doesnt hurt to ask
If I want to sail
I need my life to be breezier
I said please God or someone
Make it easier
I want to slide into the black
And wear the black mask
[...] Read more
song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!