favourite book quote

MaidenMadness

MaidenMadness

Active Member
come on i know there are ppl that love to read here



my favourite book quote is from dante's divine comedy, inferno part


"lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entate"

meaning "abandon all hope those who enter"


but the whole part that goes like this

now quoting dante alghieri - divine comedy - inferno - canto III

THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
To rear me was the task of Power divine,
Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
 
Woe to you oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath. Let him who hath not understanding reckon the Number of the Beast, for it is a human number, it's number is Six Hundred and Sixty Six ..

-- Revelations Ch. XIII v. 18

;)
 
SirLardsAlot said:
Woe to you oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath. Let him who hath not understanding reckon the Number of the Beast, for it is a human number, it's number is Six Hundred and Sixty Six ..

-- Revelations Ch. XIII v. 18

;)
Click to expand...
:banana:
 
"......He who is certain he knows the ending of things when he is only begining them is either extremely wise or extremely foolish; no matter which is true, he is certainly an unhappy man, for he has put a knife in the heart of wonder..."
 
"Pay no attention to Caesar. Caesar doesn't have the slightest idea what's really going on".-Vonnegut

This is in response to a Biblical phrase- "Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's"

:|
 
" Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits---and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!"



Rubaiyat
:|
 
I am hereby resurrecting this Thread!! :x

From Twenty love poems by Neruda:

Cuerpo de Mujer

Cuerpo de mujer, blancas colinas, muslos blancos,
te pareces al mundo en tu actitud de entrega.
Mi cuerpo de labriego salvaje te socava
y hace saltar el hijo del fondo de la tierra.

Fui solo como un tunel. De mi huian los parajos,
y en mi la noche entraba su invasion poderosa.
Para sobrevivirme te forje como un arma,
como una flecha en mi arco, como una piedra en mi honda.

Pero cae la hora de la venganza, y te amo.
Cuerpo de piel, de musgo, de leche avida y firme.
Ah los vasos del pecho! Ah los ojos de ausencia!
Ah las rosas del pubis! Ah tu voz lenta y triste!

Cuerpo de mujer mia, persistire en tu gracia.
Mi sed, mi ansia, sin limite, mi camino indeciso!
Oscuros cauces donde la sed eterna sigue,
y la fatiga sigue, y el dolor infinito.
:|
 
SexyDevilGirl said:
Cuerpo de Mujer

Cuerpo de mujer, blancas colinas, muslos blancos,
te pareces al mundo en tu actitud de entrega.
Mi cuerpo de labriego salvaje te socava
y hace saltar el hijo del fondo de la tierra.

Fui solo como un tunel. De mi huian los parajos,
y en mi la noche entraba su invasion poderosa.
Para sobrevivirme te forje como un arma,
como una flecha en mi arco, como una piedra en mi honda.

Pero cae la hora de la venganza, y te amo.
Cuerpo de piel, de musgo, de leche avida y firme.
Ah los vasos del pecho! Ah los ojos de ausencia!
Ah las rosas del pubis! Ah tu voz lenta y triste!

Cuerpo de mujer mia, persistire en tu gracia.
Mi sed, mi ansia, sin limite, mi camino indeciso!
Oscuros cauces donde la sed eterna sigue,
y la fatiga sigue, y el dolor infinito.
:|
Click to expand...

That is so beautiful... so beautiful... :|
 
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table,
Let us go through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels,
And sawdust restaurants with oyster shells,
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question:
Oh, do not ask "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.

from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot

Really I'd have to post the whole poem. And then several more by other poets. That's the way it is.

"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."
 
Bouville said:
That is so beautiful... so beautiful... :|
Click to expand...

I know, but I'd better type it in English as well- so as to not anger Rockin' LOL

Body of a Woman

Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, lying in surrender.
My rough peasant's body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.

I was alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and night swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.

But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!

Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows, and the infinite ache.
:|
 
Dios mío, estoy llorando el ser que vivo;
me pesa haber tomádote tu pan;
pero este pobre barro pensativo
no es costra fermentada en tu costado:
¡tú no tienes Marías que se van!

Dios mío, si tú hubieras sido hombre,
hoy supieras ser Dios;
pero tú, que estuviste siempre bien,
no sientes nada de tu creación.
Y el hombre sí sufre: ¡el Dios es él!

Hoy que en mis ojos viejos hay candelas,
como en un condenado,
Dios mío, prenderás todas tus velas,
y jugaremos con el viejo dado...
Tal vez ¡oh jugador! al dar la suerte
del universo todo,
surgirán las ojeras de la Muerte,
como dos ases fúnebres de lodo.

Dios mío, y esta noche sorda, oscura,
ya no podrás jugar, porque la Tierra
es un dado roído y ya redondo
a fuerza de rodar a la aventura,
que no puede parar sino en un hueco,
en el hueco de inmensa sepultura.

César Vallejo (1892-1938)
 
Seems we have made this now a poetry thread 8)

By James Laughlin- one of my favorite Beat poets

Believe Me

There can be shadows in the dark
Not many can see them
But a lover can see them
As he waits for the beloved to join him
And a lover can hear even the fall of a naked foot
As the beloved approaches
He can hear the soft breathing
That is rising in expectation
As he stretches out his hand in the darkness
To welcome her to the place of love
:|
 
Black Stone Lying On A White Stone

I will die in Paris, on a rainy day,
on some day I can already remember.
I will die in Paris--and I don't step aside--
perhaps on a Thursday, as today is Thursday, in autumn.

It will be a Thursday, because today, Thursday, setting down
these lines, I have put my upper arm bones on
wrong, and never so much as today have I found myself
with all the road ahead of me, alone.

César Vallejo is dead. Everyone beat him
although he never does anything to them;
they beat him hard with a stick and hard also
with a rope. These are the witnesses:
the Thursdays, and the bones of my arms,
the solitude, and the rain, and the roads. . .
 
Laughlin yet again

A Room in Darkness

Night is a room darkened for lovers.
The sun is gone, and our daytime concerns
and distractions with it.
Now in the darkness we are close together
As lovers are meant to be.
When we sleep or wake
Nothing intrudes between us.
We are soothed and protected
By the darkness of our room
:|
 
SexyDevilGirl said:
Laughlin yet again

A Room in Darkness

Night is a room darkened for lovers.
The sun is gone, and our daytime concerns
and distractions with it.
Now in the darkness we are close together
As lovers are meant to be.
When we sleep or wake
Nothing intrudes between us.
We are soothed and protected
By the darkness of our room
:|
Click to expand...

:|
 
Quite possible my favorite poem, definitely my favorite Whitman poem:

Of the terrible doubt of appearances,
Of the uncertainty after all, that we may be deluded,
That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all,
That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable only,
May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills,
shining and flowing waters,
The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be these
are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and the real
something has yet to be known,
(How often they dart out of themselves as if to confound me and mock
me!
How often I think neither I know, nor any man knows, aught of them,)
May-be seeming to me what they are (as doubtless they indeed but
seem) as from my present point of view, and might prove (as
of course they would) nought of what they appear, or nought
anyhow, from entirely changed points of view;
To me these and the like of these are curiously answer'd by my
lovers, my dear friends,
When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while holding me
by the hand,
When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and reason
hold not, surround us and pervade us,
Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom, I am silent, I
require nothing further,
I cannot answer the question of appearances or that of identity
beyond the grave,
But I walk or sit indifferent, I am satisfied,
He ahold of my hand has completely satisfied me.

:|
 
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