"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
"Is", "is." "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment. -Robert Anton Wilson
"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
I just write poetry to throw my mean callous heartless exterior into sharp relief. I’m going to throw you off the ship anyway. — Vogon Captain (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
