Neat Marlowe, bathed in the Thespian springs, Had in him those brave translunary things That the first poets had; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear, For that fine madness still he did retain Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.
Dear, why should you command me to my rest, When now the night doth summon all to sleep? Methinks this time becometh lovers best; Night was ordained together friends to keep.
Cricket is the greatest game that the wit of man has yet devised.- Sir Pelham Warner
Advertising is selling Twinkies to adults.- Donald R. Vance
The struggle of the male to learn to listen to and respect his own intuitive, inner prompt...- Herb Goldberg
Each generation of the church in each setting has the responsibility of communicating the ...- Francis Schaeffer
Each had defended his own country; the Germans Germany, the Frenchmen France; they had don...- Ernst Toller
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