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Quotes about Love is man incomplete

Zsa Zsa Gabor

A man in love is incomplete until he is married. Then he is finished.

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Freedom Time

[Singing Chorus]
Everybody knows that they've guilty
Everybody knows that they've lied
Everybody knows that they've guilty
Resting on their conscience eating their inside
It's freedom, said it's freedom time now
It's freedom, said it's freedom time now
Time to get free, oh give us (?)
It's freedom, said it's freedom time
[First and only verse]
Yo, there's a war in the mind, over territory
For the dominion
Who will dominate the opinion
Skisms and isms, keepin' us in forms of religion
Conformin' our vision
To the world churches decision
Trapped in a section
Submitted to commiting election
Moral infection
Epedemic lies and deception

[...] Read more

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Cemetary Gates

Reverend, reverend,
Is this a conspiracy?
Crucified for no sins
No revenge... beneath me.
Lost within my plans for life,
It all seems so unreal.
Im a man cut in half in this world,
Left in my misery.
(instrumental)
The reverend he turned to me
Without a tear in his eyes.
Its nothing new for him to see,
I didnt ask him why.
I will remember...
The love our souls had sworn to make.
Now I watch the falling rain
All my mind can see now is your (face).
Well I guess
You took my youth
And gave it all away.

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The Ghetto

Talking bout the ghetto...funky funky ghetto
Trying to survive, trying to stay alive
Chorus:
The ghetto
The ghetto
(talking bout the ghetto)
The ghetto
The ghetto
(funk funky ghetto)
Even though the streets are bumpy, lights burned out
Dope fiends die with a pipe in their mouths
Old school buddies not doing it right
Every day its the same
And its the same every night
I wouldnt shoot you bro but Id shoot that fool
If he played me close and tried to test my cool
Every day I wonder just how Ill die
Only thing I know is how to survive
Theres only one rule in the real world
And thats to take care of you, only you and yours

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long

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poem by from Aurora Leigh (1856)Report problemRelated quotes
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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Third Book

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

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,

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poem by from Aurora Leigh (1856)Report problemRelated quotes
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I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,

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poem by from The Ring and the BookReport problemRelated quotes
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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

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poem by from The Ring and the BookReport problemRelated quotes
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Byron

Canto the Seventh

I
O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly
Around us ever, rarely to alight?
There's not a meteor in the polar sky
Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight.
Chill, and chain'd to cold earth, we lift on high
Our eyes in search of either lovely light;
A thousand and a thousand colours they
Assume, then leave us on our freezing way.

II
And such as they are, such my present tale is,
A non-descript and ever-varying rhyme,
A versified Aurora Borealis,
Which flashes o'er a waste and icy clime.
When we know what all are, we must bewail us,
But ne'ertheless I hope it is no crime
To laugh at all things -- for I wish to know
What, after all, are all things -- but a show?

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poem by from Don Juan (1824)Report problemRelated quotes
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Zsa Zsa Gabor

A man in love is incomplete until he has married. Then he's finished.

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