Day by day we magnify thee; And we worship thy Name: ever world without end. Vouchsafe, O Lord: to keep us this day without sin. O Lord, have mercy upon us: have mercy upon us. O Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us: as our trust is in thee. O Lord, in thee have I […]
Les mer»Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. Pope
Les mer»The embarrassment we feel in the presence of a ridiculous man is due to the fact that we cannot imagine him on his death bed. E.M. Cioran
Les mer»Altogether, elsewhere, vast Herds of reindeer move across Miles and miles of golden moss, Silently and very fast. W.H. Auden (1907-1973) The Fall of Rome (1951)
Les mer»To us he is no more a person now but a whole climate of opinion. W. H. Auden In memory of Sigmund Freud (1940)
Les mer»I Der går en stor november over jorden. Det er november venner, og vi fryser; der blåser frossen tåke inn fra fjorden, og uten varme er den sol som lyser. Den varsler veldig vinter over land. Det går mot Oslo-vinter, og det mørkner; det blåser dovresno langs Carl Johan og iskoldtstøv i våre hjerters ørkner. […]
Les mer»They never forgot That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer’s horse Scratches its innocent behind on a tree. W. H. Auden Musée des Beaux Arts’ (1940)
Les mer»About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters; how well they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along. H. W. Auden Museé des Beaux Arts’ (1940)
Les mer»Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. H. W. Auden Funeral Blues (1936)
Les mer»Shakespeare one gets acquainted with without knowing how. It is part of an Englishman’s constitution. His thoughts and beauties are so spread abroad that one touches them everywhere, one is intimate with him by instinct. Jane Austen, Mansfield Park (1814)
Les mer»
