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Like all revolutions, the surrealist revolution was a reversion, a restitution, an expression of vital and indispensable spiritual needs.

classic quote by Eugene Ionesco
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Our starting point then was trying to find a way to incorporate mean reversion into the HoLee model.

quote by John Hull
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yes, our tree has an interesting shape. The center branches reflect the shape of the zero curve. When extreme parts of the tree are reached the branching pattern changes to accommodate the mean reversion.

quote by John Hull
Added by Lucian Velea
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Troilus: Are there such? Such are not we. Praise us as we are
tasted, allow us as we prove; our head shall go bare till merit
crown it. No perfection in reversion shall have a praise in
present. We will not name desert before his birth; and, being
born, his addition shall be humble.

line from the play Troilus and Cressida, Act III, Scene 2, script by William Shakespeare (1602)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Different scales

I like him. He, too, in turn.
We are in love. Good!

I like him. He is not so.
Still I like him. Better!

I like him. He hates me.
Still I like him. The best!

I love her. She, too, in turn.
We are in love. Good!

I love her. She avoids.
Still I pursue. Bad!

I love her. She despises.
Still I pester. Worse!

Love between same genders;
Love between opposite genders;

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poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Complaint: or Night Thoughts (excerpt)

By Nature's law, what may be, may be now;
There's no prerogative in human hours.
In human hearts what bolder thought can rise,
Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn?
Where is to-morrow? In another world.
For numbers this is certain; the reverse
Is sure to none; and yet on this perhaps,
This peradventure, infamous for lies,
As on a rock of adamant we build
Our mountain hopes, spin out eternal schemes
As we the Fatal Sisters could out-spin,
And big with life's futurities, expire.
Not ev'n Philander had bespoke his shroud,
Nor had he cause; a warning was deny'd:
How many fall as sudden, not as safe!
As sudden, though for years admonish'd home.
Of human ills the last extreme beware;
Beware, Lorenzo, a slow-sudden death.
How dreadful that deliberate surprise!
Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer;

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poem by Edward Young
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An Offer Of Marriage

Once I 'dipt into the future far as human eye could see,'
And saw-it was not Sandow, nor John Sullivan, but she
The Emancipated Woman, who was weeping as she ran
Here and there for the discovery of Expurgated Man.
But the sun of Evolution ever rose and ever set,
And that tardiest of mortals hadn't evoluted yet.
Hence the tears that she cascaded, hence the sighs that tore apart
All the tendinous connections of her indurated heart.
Cried Emancipated Woman, as she wearied of the search:
'In Advancing I have left myself distinctly in the lurch!
Seeking still a worthy partner, from the land of brutes and dudes
I have penetrated rashly into manless solitudes.
Now without a mate of any kind where am I?-that's to say,
Where shall I be to-morrow?-where exert my rightful sway
And the purifying strength of my emancipated mind?
Can solitude be lifted up, vacuity refined?
Calling, calling from the shadows in the rear of my Advance
From the Region of Unprogress in the Dark Domain of Chance
Long I heard the Unevolvable beseeching my return
To share the degradation he's reluctant to unlearn.

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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady

What beck'ning ghost, along the moon-light shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
'Tis she!--but why that bleeding bosom gor'd,
Why dimly gleams the visionary sword?
Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell,
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To act a lover's or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reversion in the sky,
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?

Why bade ye else, ye pow'rs! her soul aspire
Above the vulgar flight of low desire?
Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes;
The glorious fault of angels and of gods;
Thence to their images on earth it flows,
And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows.
Most souls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age,
Dull sullen pris'ners in the body's cage:
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years

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poem by Alexander Pope
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PARADOX. That Fruition destroyes Love

Love is our Reasons Paradox, which still
Against the judgment doth maintain the Will:
And governs by such arbitrary laws,
It onely makes the Act our Likings cause:
We have no brave revenge, but to forgo
Our full desires, and starve the Tyrant so.
They whom the rising blood tempts not to taste,
Preserve a stock of Love can never waste;
When easie people who their wish enjoy,
Like Prodigalls at once their wealth destroy.
Adam till now had stayd in Paradise
Had his desires been bounded by his eyes.
When he did more then look, that made th' offence,
And forfeited his state of innocence.
Fruition therefore is the bane t'undoe
Both our affection and the subject too.
'Tis Love into worse language to translate,
And make it into Lust degenerate:
'Tis to De-throne, and thrust it from the heart,
To seat it grossely in the sensual part.

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poem by Henry King
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Talking China Doll Dreams of Merry Go Round, Playground & Fairy Stage

Fair fairy tales would be perfect for putting child to bed,
inciting images of speedy spinner merry-go-round or swings instesad,
for once ignoring the bare wood or carpet
which level inner sides of the house to let.

Listen to talking over obscure passage abiss
that drops as the gentle rain from heaven's bliss
of the midwinter's nightmarish dream,
that most fairies piece together in writing a reem.

Legendary voices appear as light, flexible and round ales
who are drunk upon observing intoxicating illustrations to fairy tales.
For the poet, without talking about it.
is being there were gone except for royal wit.

However under fairy tales of old bloat
the wizard encounters the talking scape goat.
Metamorphosis of stork to love is unlike modern fairy tale
of wolves abd talking animals where imginative realms fail.

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poem by Hercolena Oliver
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