
I certainly wanted to maintain some sense of mystery about Picard and that's why we never allowed certain situations to fully evolve, like the relationship between Picard and Beverly Crusher.
quote by Patrick Stewart
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Related quotes
Money For Nothing/beverly Hillbillies
Beverly
Beverly hillbillies
Huh, now lookie here people
Listen to my story
A little story bout a man named jed
You know something?
That poor mountaineer
They say he barely kept his family fed
Now, let me tell you
One day he was shootin
Old jed was shootin at some food
When all of a sudden right up from the ground, there
Well, there came a bubblin crude
Oil that is well, maybe you call it black gold or texas tea
He gonna move next to mr. drysdale and be a beverly hillbilly...
Before you know it, all the kinfolk are-a-sayin
Yeah, buddie, move away from there
That little clampet got his own cement pond
That little clampet, hes a millionaire
Now, everyone said californie
Is the place that you oughta be
We got to load up this here truck now
We got to move to beverly
Hills, that is
Swimming pools
Move-a-move-a-movie stars
Huh
Lookit that, lookit that
Beverly beverly beverly hillbillies
Yall come back now, yhear?
Beverly beverly beverly hillbillies
Beverly beverly beverly hillbillies
Beverly beverly beverly hillbillies
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beverly Hills
Where I come from it isn't all that great
My automobile is a piece of crap
My fashion sense is a little whack
And my friends are just as screwy as me
I didn't go to boarding schools
Preppie girls didn't look at me
Why should they?
I ain't nobody
got nothin' in my pocket
Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be!
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rollin' like a celebrity!
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Look at all those movie stars
They're all so beautiful and clean
When their house maids scrub the floors
They get the spaces in between
I wanna live a life like that
I wanna live just like a king
Take my picture by the pool
'Cause I'm the next big thing!
Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be!
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rollin' like a celebrity!
Livin' in Beverly Hills
The truth is I don't stand a chance
It's somethin' that you're born into
And I just don't belong
Well I know I'm a beat-down fool
And I will always be that way
I might as well enjoy my life
And watch the stars fall
Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be!
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rollin' like a celebrity!
Livin' in Beverly Hills!
song performed by Weezer
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Barefoot In Beverly Hills
Still walkin barefoot, still walkin barefoot, still,
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills,
I can walk on the stone, I can walk on the grass,
Im walkin all over this earth,
I can walk on the line, I can walk on the edge,
Im walkin all over this earth,
I can walk on low, I can walk on high,
Im walkin all over this earth,
And, I can walk on the grass, I can walk on the grass,
And walk on, you name it.
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills,
(? )
I keep my feet from burning up,
For years I walked back beat,
With anything under my feet,
An immunity to heat,
An immunity to heat,
And walk on, you name it.
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills,
An immunity to heat.
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Im still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot, in beverly hills,
Still walkin barefoot still, in beverly hills, (x2)
Oh for years I walked back beat,
All the years have gone to my feet,
Ive walked in the tall grass?
An immunity to heat.
song performed by Grace Jones
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I Should Be Allowed To Think
I saw the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I saw the worst bands of my generation
Applied by magic marker to dry wall
I should be allowed to shoot my mouth off
I should have a call in show
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I am not allowed
To ever come up with a single original thought
I am not allowed
To meet the criminal government agent who oppresses me
I was the worst hope of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to share my feelings
I should be allowed to feel
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim one occurs to me
But sadly, this can never be
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
song performed by They Might Be Giants
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The Believer's Principles : Chap. IV.
Faith and Sense Natural, compared and distinguished.
When Abram's body, Sarah's womb,
Were ripe for nothing but the tomb,
Exceeding old, and wholly dead,
Unlike to bear the promis'd seed:
Faith said, 'I shall an Isaac see;'
'No, no,' said Sense, 'it cannot be;'
Blind Reason, to augment the strife,
Adds, 'How can death engender life?'
My heart is like a rotten tomb,
More dead than ever Sarah's womb;
O! can the promis'd seed of grace
Spring forth from such a barren place?
Sense gazing but on flinty rocks,
My hope and expectation chokes:
But could I, skill'd in Abram's art,
O'erlook my dead and barren heart;
And build my hope on nothing less
That divine pow'r and faithfulness;
Soon would I find him raise up sons
To Abram, out of rocks and stones.
Faith acts as busy boatmen do,
Who backward look and forward row;
It looks intent to things unseen,
Thinks objects visible too mean.
Sense thinks it madness thus to steer,
And only trusts its eye and ear;
Into faith's boat dare thrust its oar,
And put it further from the shore.
Faith does alone the promise eye;
Sense won't believe unless it see;
Nor can it trust the divine guide,
Unless it have both wind and tide.
Faith thinks the promise sure and good;
Sense doth depend on likelihood;
Faith ev'n in storms believes the seers;
Sense calls all men, ev'n prophets, liars.
Faith uses means, but rests on none;
Sense sails when outward means are gone:
[...] Read more
poem by Ralph Erskine
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Shes A Mystery To Me
Darkness falls and she
Will take me by the hand
Take me to some twilight land
Where all but love is gray
Where I can find my way
Without her as my guide
Night falls, Im cast beneath her spell
Daylight falls, our heaven turns to hell
Am I left to burn
And burn eternally
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
In the night of love
Words tangled in her hair
Words soon to disappear
A love so sharp it cut
Like a switchblade to my heart
Words tearing me apart
She tears again my bleeding heart
I want to run, shes pulling me apart
Fallen angel cries
Then I just melt away
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Haunted by her side
Its a darkness in her eyes
That so enslaves me
And if my love is blind
Then I dont want to see
Shes a mystery to me
Night falls, Im cast beneath her spell
Daylight comes, our heaven turns to hell
Am I left to burn
And burn eternally
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes...a mystery girl
Mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes...a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
[...] Read more
song performed by U2
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Un-believable Situations
Un-believable situations,
Leave a lump in a throat.
And those,
Un-believable situations...
Can leave a weight on shoulders,
Whether one is young on older.
No matter who's brave or bold.
Stricken with heat or fever,
No matter who's brave or bold.
Those un-believable situations,
Can warm a heart...
Or turn it cold.
Few are prepared for what they can not see.
When surprised by situations.
Many choke up and can not breathe,
When confronted by situations...
Shocking and unbelieved.
Stricken with heat or fever,
No matter who's brave or bold.
Those un-believable situations,
Can warm a heart...
Or turn it cold.
Those un-believable situations,
Always stun the ones who disbelieve.
Those un-believable situations,
Come to bring some to their knees.
Those un-believable situations,
Always stun the ones who disbelieve.
Those un-believable situations,
Come to bring some to their knees.
Those un-believable situations,
Always stun the ones who disbelieve.
Those un-believable situations,
Come to bring some to their knees.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Crusher
Now I wanna wrestle in the garden
I'm on my way to stardom
I know I'm ready I know I'm great
But first I've got to get in shape
Cause I got my eye on the Russian Bear
Gonna tear him up I swear
This guy thinks he's the champion
Gonna take his belt and gonna beat him!
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
I'm ready for a match with the Russian Bear
Gonna pile drive him pull his hair
I might have a foreign object in my trunks
I might have to use on that punk
Got the hardest hold you can put on anyone
If you're my victim you're beaten
I'm a lean mean fighting machine
Powerful and strong like King Kong
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
Started having second thoughts I was scared as hell
The last thing I wanted was to hear them ring the bell
I mean the Russian Bear could probably tear me limb from limb
He'd probably grin be real happy with himself
This is not good for my health
I'm not coming out of this dressing room
And get beaten up by that goon
Go back to Russia go back home!
Don't wanna get a broken bone
Or a lump on my head
I ain't gonna hide under the bed
I'm the crusher king of the ring (4x)
I'm the crusher
I'm the crusher
Yeah me to know
song performed by Ramones from Adios Amigos
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Am I Allowed
Am I allowed
To wish not to breathe?
Am I allowed
To skip over tomorrow?
And,
Am I allowed
Not to believe,
Who it is that speaks.
Or,
Whom everybody follows?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Magical Mystery Tour
(LennonMcCartney)
[Roll up! Roll up for the magical mystery tour!
Step right this way!]
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (And that's an invitation), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (To make a reservation), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (We've got everything you need), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (Satisfaction guaranteed), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is hoping to take you away
Hoping to take you away
Mystery trip
Aaaah... the magical mystery tour
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (And that's an invitation), roll up for the mystery tour
Roll up (To make a reservation), roll up for the mystery tour
The magical mystery tour is coming to take you away
Coming to take you away
The magical mystery tour is dying to take you away
Dying to take you away, take you today
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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Crusher
Now I wanna wrestle in the garden
I'm on my way to stardom
I know I'm ready I know I'm great
But first I have to get in shape
Cause I've got my eyes on the Russian Bear
Gonna tear him up I swear
This guy thinks he's the champion
Gonna take his belt and beat him!
I'm the crusher king of the ring
I'm ready for a match with the Russian Bear
Gonna pile drive him pull his hair
I might have a foreign object in my trunks
I might have to use on that punk
Got the hardest hold you can put on anyone
If you're my victim you're beaten
I'm a lean mean fighting machine
Powerful and strong like King Kong
I'm the crusher king of the ring
Started having second thought I was scared as hell
The last thing I wanted was to hear them ring the bell
I mean the Russian Bear could probably
tear me limb from limb
He'd probably grin be real happy with himself
This is not good for my health
I'm not coming out of the dressing room
And get beaten up by that goon
Go back to Russia go back home!
Don't wanna get a broken bone
Or a lump on my head
Ain't gonna hide under the bed
I'm the crusher king of the ring
I'm the Crusher
song performed by Ramones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Magical Mystery Tour
Roll up.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
And that's an invitation.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
To make a reservation.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
The Magical Mystery Tour
Is waiting to take you away.
Waiting to take you away.
Roll up.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
We got everything you need.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
Satisfaction guaranteed.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
The Magical Mystery Tour
Is hoping to take you away.
Hoping to take you away.
(Mystery Tour..)
Ah.. The Magical Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
And that's an invitation.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
Roll up.
To make a reservation.
Roll up for the Mystery Tour.
The Magical Mystery Tour
Is coming to take you away.
Coming to take you away.
The Magical Mystery Tour
Is dying to take you away.
[...] Read more
song performed by Beatles
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Magical Mystery Tour
Roll up, roll up, roll up, roll up
Roll up
Roll up, roll up, roll up, roll up
(Roll up) I've got an invitation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) To make a reservation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) They got everything you need
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) Satisfaction guaranteed
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
The magical mystery tour
Is waiting to take you away
Waiting to take you away
(Roll up) Iave got an invitation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) To make a reservation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) I got everything you need
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) Satisfaction guaranteed
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
The magical mystery tour
Is hoping to take you away
Hoping to take you away
We're taking a trip
A mystery tour
We're taking a trip
(Oh) The magical mystery tour
(Roll up)
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) I've got an invitation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
(Roll up) To make a reservation
(Roll up for the mystery tour)
The magical mystery tour
Is coming to take you away
Coming to take you away
The magical mystery tour
Is dying to take you away
Dying to take you away
Take you today
song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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It Makes More Sense
It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mystery Girl
Darkness falls and she will take me by the hand
Take me to some twilight land
Where all but love is grey
Where time just slips away
Without her as my guide
Night falls Im cast beneath here spell
Daylight comes our heavens torn to hell
Am I left to burn
And burn eternally
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
In the night of love words tangled in her hair
Words soon to disappear
A love so sharp it cuts like a switchblade to my heart
Words tearing me apart
She tears again my bleeding heart
I want to run shes pulling me apart
Fallen angel cries
Then I just melt away
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Haunted by her side the darkness in her eyes
But that so enslaves me
If my love is blind then I dont want to see
Shes a mystery to me
Night falls Im cast beneath her spell
Daylight comes our heavens torn to hell
Am I left to burn
And burn eternally
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
song performed by Roy Orbison
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part II.
“Dame,” said the Panther, “times are mended well,
Since late among the Philistines you fell.
The toils were pitched, a spacious tract of ground
With expert huntsmen was encompassed round;
The inclosure narrowed; the sagacious power
Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour.
'Tis true, the younger lion 'scaped the snare,
But all your priestly calves lay struggling there,
As sacrifices on their altars laid;
While you, their careful mother, wisely fled,
Not trusting destiny to save your head.
For, whate'er promises you have applied
To your unfailing Church, the surer side
Is four fair legs in danger to provide;
And whate'er tales of Peter's chair you tell,
Yet, saving reverence of the miracle,
The better luck was yours to 'scape so well.”
“As I remember,” said the sober Hind,
“Those toils were for your own dear self designed,
As well as me; and with the selfsame throw,
To catch the quarry and the vermin too,—
Forgive the slanderous tongues that called you so.
Howe'er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty.
Besides, in Popery they thought you nurst,
As evil tongues will ever speak the worst,
Because some forms, and ceremonies some
You kept, and stood in the main question dumb.
Dumb you were born indeed; but, thinking long,
The test, it seems, at last has loosed your tongue:
And to explain what your forefathers meant,
By real presence in the sacrament,
After long fencing pushed against a wall,
Your salvo comes, that he's not there at all:
There changed your faith, and what may change may fall.
Who can believe what varies every day,
Nor ever was, nor will be at a stay?”
“Tortures may force the tongue untruths to tell,
And I ne'er owned myself infallible,”
Replied the Panther: “grant such presence were,
Yet in your sense I never owned it there.
A real virtue we by faith receive,
And that we in the sacrament believe.”
“Then,” said the Hind, “as you the matter state,
Not only Jesuits can equivocate;
For real, as you now the word expound,
From solid substance dwindles to a sound.
Methinks, an Æsop's fable you repeat;
You know who took the shadow for the meat:
Your Church's substance thus you change at will,
[...] Read more
poem by John Dryden
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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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Shes A Mystery To Me
(david evans, paul hewson)
Darkness falls & she will take me by the hand
Take me to some twilight land
Where all but love is grey
Where time just slips away
Without her as my guide
Night falls Im cast beneath her spell
Daylight comes our heavens torn to hell
Am I left to burn
And burn eternally
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
In the night of love words tangled in her hair
Words soon to disappear
A love so sharp it cuts like switchblade to my heart
Words tearing me apart
She tears again my bleeding heart
I want to run shes pulling me apart
Fallen angel cries
Then I just melt away
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Haunted by her side the darkness in her eyes
But that so enslaves me
If my love is blind then I dont want to see
Shes a mystery to me
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
Shes a mystery girl
song performed by Roy Orbison
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
THE ARGUMENT
The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.
THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,
[...] Read more
poem by Samuel Butler
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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,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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