He's psychologically damaged, I suppose, if you stand back and look objectively at him, but then, who isn't?
quote by Paul Darrow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Damaged
I know Im kinda strange, to you sometimes
Dont always say, whats on my mind
You know that Ive been hurt, by some guy
But I dont wanna mess up this time
[bridge]
And I really really really care
And I really really really want you
And I think Im kinda scared
Cos I dont want to lose you
If you really really really care
Then maybe you can hang through
I hope you understand
Its nothing to you
[chorus]
My hearts at a low
Im so much to manage
I think you should know that
Ive been damaged
Im falling in love
Theres one disadvantage
I think you should know that Ive been damaged
I might look through your stuff, for what I dont wanna find
Or I might just set you up, to see if youre all mine
Im a little paranoid, from what Ive been through
Dont know what you got yourself into
And I really really really care (and I care about you so much)
And I really really really want you (I really do want you)
And I think Im kinda scared (but Im scared with every touch)
Cos I dont want to lose you (cos I dont want to lose you)
If you really really really care (if you care for me like you say)
Then maybe you can hang through (then maybe you can hang through)
I hope you understand (I hope you understand)
Its nothing to you (its nothing to you, you)
My hearts at a low (low)
Im so much to manage
I think you should know that (I think you should know)
Ive been damaged
Im falling in love (Im falling in love)
Theres one disadvantage
I think you should know that Ive been damaged (I think you should know that)
My hearts at a low
Im so much to manage (Im so much to manage)
I think you should know that (I think you should know that)
Ive been damaged (Ive been damaged)
Im falling in love (I love you so)
Theres one disadvantage (I love you so)
I think you should know that Ive been damaged
And I really really really want you
And I think Im kinda scared
Cos I dont want to lose you
[...] Read more
song performed by TLC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Suppose
Suppose no rose would ever grow again
Suppose no brook would ever flow again
Suppose no star should ever glow again
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose there were no bees or butterflies
Suppose no bird should ever cross the skies
Suppose the sun should never never rise
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose you didn't love me
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stand By Your Man
[LL Cool J]
Yeah this one goes out to all the ladies in the house
[LL Cool J]
I need two to stand by me when the chips are down and
Stick around while I defend my crown and
No sell-out, the chip is too rough and
I'll blow your skin to sofa, leave your mind to be tough
And I might seem rough but life is much rougher
To see success sometimes you gotta suffer
I need a woman that's stronger than material needs
And isn't motivated by green
Dry my tear-drops and feelin' my pain and
Watchin' my back while I strive to maintain and
Makin' love like a medicine doctor
I knew that she was bad from the day that I clocked her
[Chorus: Dawn Greene]
Stand by your, man, stand by your man
You got to stand by your baby
Stand by your, man, stand by your man
You got to stand by your baby
[LL Cool J]
My enemies come and my break-bread's tough but
You recognize game from your eyes and walkin'
Baby ain't no way I'll let the vultures attack you
So I'll teach you the game and tell you how to react to
The conversation, sexy vibration
Visual stimulation, slick persuasion
Times are hard, I need a woman that rolls by God
And the only man she loves is Todd
But will you be around when the raindrops fallin'
Or could it be you never loved me at all and
I need a trooper, a soldier, a agent
I need someone who can roll with my arrangement
The reap reducer factor and
The Queen of the Universe, not an actor and
Standin' by her man till the end
Not only as a lover but a friend
[Chorus: Dawn Greene]
Stand by your, man, stand by your man
You got to stand by your baby (yeah)
Stand by your, man, stand by your man
You got to stand by your baby
[LL Cool J]
Man, do things get better?
We can look back at the whole aerators
Remember the times when they said I couldn't do it
But I was rougher than rough and baby you knew it and
You held back when your loved jobs called in
You had faith when they said they're not callin'
You understood that what we had was good
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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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:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Get Up, Stand Up
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: dont give up the fight!
Preacherman, dont tell me,
Heaven is under the earth.
I know you dont know
What life is really worth.
Its not all that glitters is gold;
alf the story has never been told:
So now you see the light, eh!
Stand up for your rights. come on!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: dont give up the fight!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: dont give up the fight!
Most people think,
Great God will come from the skies,
Take away everything
And make everybody feel high.
But if you know what life is worth,
You will look for yours on earth:
And now you see the light,
You stand up for your rights. jah!
Get up, stand up! (jah, jah!)
Stand up for your rights! (oh-hoo!)
Get up, stand up! (get up, stand up!)
Dont give up the fight! (life is your right!)
Get up, stand up! (so we cant give up the fight!)
Stand up for your rights! (lord, lord!)
Get up, stand up! (keep on struggling on!)
Dont give up the fight! (yeah!)
We sick an tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin n goin to heaven in-a jesus name, lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty God is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you cant fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (what you gonna do? ),
We gonna stand up for our rights! (yeah, yeah, yeah!)
So you better:
Get up, stand up! (in the morning! git it up!)
Stand up for your rights! (stand up for our rights!)
Get up, stand up!
Dont give up the fight! (dont give it up, dont give it up!)
Get up, stand up! (get up, stand up!)
Stand up for your rights! (get up, stand up!)
Get up, stand up! ( ... )
Dont give up the fight! (get up, stand up!)
Get up, stand up! ( ... )
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Yet Dish
I
Put a sun in Sunday, Sunday.
Eleven please ten hoop. Hoop.
Cousin coarse in coarse in soap.
Cousin coarse in soap sew up. soap.
Cousin coarse in sew up soap.
II
A lea ender stow sole lightly.
Not a bet beggar.
Nearer a true set jump hum,
A lamp lander so seen poor lip.
III
Never so round.
A is a guess and a piece.
A is a sweet cent sender.
A is a kiss slow cheese.
A is for age jet.
IV
New deck stairs.
Little in den little in dear den.
V
Polar pole.
Dust winder.
Core see.
A bale a bale o a bale.
VI
Extravagant new or noise peal extravagant.
VII
S a glass.
Roll ups.
VIII
Powder in wails, powder in sails, powder is all next to it is does
wait sack rate all goals like chain in clear.
IX
Negligible old star.
Pour even.
It was a sad per cent.
Does on sun day.
Watch or water.
So soon a moon or a old heavy press.
X
[...] Read more
poem by Gertrude Stein
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The Rain
(rock the joint)
Me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
Supa dupa fly (uh-huh)
Supa dupa fly
{singing} i can't stand the rain!
(uh-huh) me i'm supa fly (uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window
When the rain hits my window
I take and {inhale, cough} me some indo
Me and timbaland, ooh, we sang a jangle
We so tight, that you get our styles tango
Sway on dosie-do like you loco
{singing} can we get kinky tonight?
Like coco, so-so
You don't wanna play with my yo-yo
I smoke my hydro on the dee-low
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (against my window)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (say what?)
Yeah..
Beep beep, who got the keys to the jeep? v-r-rrrrrrrooooom!
(uh-huh) i'm drivin to the beach
Top down, loud sounds, see my peeps (uhh)
Give them pounds, now look who it be (who it be)
It be me me me and timothy (me me!)
Look like it's bout to rain, what a shame (uh-huh)
I got the armor-all to shine up the stain
Oh missy, try to maintain
Icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky-icky..
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
(uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (say what? uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (uh-huh)
{singing} i can't stand the rain! (uh-huh, uh-huh)
{singing} 'gainst my window (yeah)
[...] Read more
song performed by Missy Elliott
Added by Lucian Velea
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Suppose a smile.
Suppose a smile.
Suppose it always, with a smile.
Suppose the sun to shine,
shine with a smile;
suppose the rain to fall and smile
smile at the earth;
the snow, with gentle smile,
protecting tender shoots;
suppose the wind to smile
mysteriously, about its secretwork;
suppose – that’s easy – flowers
to open with a smile; and
smile as they fade and wave farewell,
a smile that says, that’s how it is…
suppose some patient smiles:
as rain-forests say to those who cut them down,
you’ll live to regret this; here’s
your chance to learn;
suppose the desert sand to smile
and say, you took the trees, and now
I’m here; plant, call down rain, store, irrigate…
suppose the ice-cap, melting with sad smile,
saying, I did not choose…
suppose that Abraham, Moses, Christ, Mohammed
spoke their uncompromising, uncomfortable truths
always with a smile; a gentle smile;
a smile to say, I'm here, you're here to learn...
suppose the spear to smile,
hammered into pruning-hook..
suppose smile met with smile.
Suppose.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Added by Poetry Lover
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Stand By Love
You know my heart beats rhythm and my dreams still take me higher
Ive travelled round the world but they cant cure my desire
The city looks pretty tonight
Hold on now lets go till morning
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, stand by me
Im a shell shocked lover, under cover thats my game
Im your long lost brother, little sister whats your name
I feel so alone
Im stranded and so far from home Im calling
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, and stand by me
Stand by love
Love - stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Give me one good reason why you dont come play with fire
cos when the earth starts moving you know Im no liar
The city looks pretty tonight
Oh hold on now lets go till morning
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, and stand by me
Stand by love stand by
Stand by love
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by love
Stand by love stand by love
Stand by me
Written by : kerr/burchill reproduced without permission
song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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1975
Brawling scratches mean a bad hair day
Go on and press your face
All up against the glass
Watch and wonder as the pretty things spin and burn
Swing and missing all
Almost every time
Yeah, almost every time
Brawling scratches mean a bad hair day
Go on and press your face
All up against the glass
Watch and wonder as the pretty things spin and burn
Swing and missing all
Almost every time
Im not alive, 1975
Id spend my time wasted, dull, damaged, and blind
Im not alive, 1975
Yeah, 1975
I see scratches and the idiot kids
I watched them getting high
Out in the cold blue sky
Watch and wonder as the asphalt babies burned
Dancing in the flame, laughing all of the while
Im not alive, 1975
Id spend my time wasted, dull, damaged, and blind
Im not alive, 1975
Watch and wonder as they fade away...
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Sounds a lot like me
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Sounds a lot like me
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Yeah, almost all of the time
Dull, damaged, and blind...
Whoa, 1975
I m not alive, 1975
I was not alive, 1975
Id spend all my time wasted dull, damaged, and blind 1975
Watch and wonder as they fade away...
song performed by Everclear
Added by Lucian Velea
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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!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Ghost - Book IV
Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
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Nuclear Is Safe? No They Lied To You
A list of non classified nuclear disasters
chalk one up for Chalk River Canada
rating 5 a “reactor shutoff rod failure,
combined with several operator errors,
led to a major power excursion of more
than double the reactor's rated output
at AECL's NRX reactor” then a big deal.1952
Entrant two Windscale Pile United Kingdom
rating 5 a “Release of radioactive material to
the environment following a fire in a reactor
core.” Toast a good year for nuclear disasters.1957
graphite core of a British nuclear “[weapons
programme] reactor at Windscale, Cumberland
(now Sellafield, Cumbria) caught fire, releasing
substantial amounts of radioactive contamination
into the surrounding area.” Radioactive fire.
A warm welcome to entrant three. Kyshtym
Russia rating 6 a “Significant release of
radioactive material to the environment
from explosion of a high activity waste tank.” 1957
Please all welcome contestant one back
Chalk River Canada (rating?) “Due to
inadequate cooling a damaged uranium
fuel rod caught fire and was torn in two.” 1958
Champagne pops cheer another good year
Vinč a Yugoslavia (rating?) “During
a subcritical counting experiment a power
buildup went undetected - six scientists
received high doses.” What detailed detail? 1958
Applause please for our first American entry
Santa Susana Field Laboratory US (rating?)
“Partial core meltdown.” Sounds serious.
Tick one deep operations public cover up.1959
Time to take a nice country waltz in a US county
Westinghouse Waltz Mill Westmoreland County
(rating?) a core melt accident in a test reactor? 1960
Looks like American is going for a hat trick
Charlestown US (rating?) “Error by a worker
at a United Nuclear Corporation fuel facility
led to an accidental criticality”. Human error? 1964
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Cant Stand It
Its hard being a man
Living in a garbage pail
My landlady called me up, ooohhh
She tried to hit me with a mop
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it anymore more, oh
I cant stand it anymore more
But if candy would just come back
Itd be all right
Yeah, if candy would just come back
It would be all right, come on baby
I live with thirteen dead cats
A purple dog that wears spats
Theyre all out livin in the hall
And I cant stand it anymore
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it anymore more
But if candy would just come back
Itd be all right
Ooohhh, if candy would just come back
It would be all right, be all right now
Ah, come on baby
Im tired of living all alone
Yeah, nobody ever calls me on the phone
But when, ah, things start getting bad, ah
I just play my music louder
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it anymore more
I cant stand it, I cant stand it, oh
I cant stand it, I cant stand it
I cant stand it, I cant stand it, no
I cant stand it, I cant stand it, oh
I cant stand it, I cant stand it
I cant stand it, I cant stand it
I cant stand it, I cant stand it
I cant stand it, I cant stand it
...
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Fourth Book
THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'
So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side
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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Aint Gonna Stand For It
Dont wanna believe what theyre telling me
Somebodys been pickin in my cherry tree
Dont wanna mistrust nobody by mistake
But I hear tell someones been diggin round in my cake
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
Nah-ah (nah-ah)
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
I aint gonna stand for it baby
Nah-ah (nah-ah nah-ah) nah-ah (nah-ah nah-ah)
Dont wanna believe what somebody said
But somebody said somebodys shoes was under my bed
Dont wanna cause nobody no bodily harm
But somebodys been rubbin on my good luck charm
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
I aint gonna stand for it baby
Nah-ah (nah-ah)
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
I aint gonna stand for it baby
Nah-ah (nah-ah nah-ah) nah-ah (nah-ah nah-ah)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, my, my, my, my, my, my,
Oh, oh, my, my, my, my, my, my,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, my, my, my, my, my, my,
Oh, oh, my, my, my, my, my, my,
No, I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby, nah-ah (nah-ah)
I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby, no
And I aint gonna stand for it baby, oh, oh,
No, no, no, no, no (nah-ah)
I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby
And I aint gonna stand for it baby, nah-ah (nah-ah) oh, oh, oh
(I aint gonna stand for it baby,
I aint gonna stand for it baby,
I aint gonna stand for it baby)
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
Stand for it baby, nah-ah (nah-ah) baby, ah, ah
song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Ninth
I
Oh, Wellington! (or "Villainton" -- for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase --
Beating or beaten she will laugh the same),
You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise:
Glory like yours should any dare gainsay,
Humanity would rise, and thunder "Nay!"
II
I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well
In Marinet's affair -- in fact, 't was shabby,
And like some other things won't do to tell
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.
Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby;
But though your years as man tend fast to zero,
In fact your grace is still but a young hero.
III
Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:
You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch,
A prop not quite so certain as before:
The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch,
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore;
And Waterloo has made the world your debtor
(I wish your bards would sing it rather better).
IV
You are "the best of cut-throats:" -- do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied:
War's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
If you have acted once a generous part,
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
And I shall be delighted to learn who,
Save you and yours, have gain'd by Waterloo?
V
I am no flatterer -- you've supp'd full of flattery:
They say you like it too -- 't is no great wonder.
He whose whole life has been assault and battery,
At last may get a little tired of thunder;
And swallowing eulogy much more than satire, he
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Call'd "Saviour of the Nations" -- not yet saved,
And "Europe's Liberator" -- still enslaved.
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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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