Showing posts with label January 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label January 1. Show all posts

Monday, 1 January 2018

Arthur Hugh Clough


Source: Poetry Foundation


Arthur Hugh Clough
Born: 1 January, 1819 - Liverpool, U.K.
Died: 13 November, 1861 - Florence, Italy


poet
educationalist
assistant to Florence Nightingale



Truth is a golden thread, seen here and there
In small bright specks upon the visible side
Of our strange being’s party-coloured web.
- The Thread of Truth (1839)


Grace is given of God, but knowledge is bought in the market;
Knowledge needful for all, yet cannot be had for the asking.
- The Bothie of Tober-na-vuolich, Pt. IV (1848)


No graven images may be
Worshipped, except the currency.
- The Latest Decalogue, l. 3-4 (1862)

Sunday, 1 January 2017

J. D. Salinger


Source of image

J. D. Salinger
Born: January 1st, 1919 - New York City, U.S.
Died: January 27th, 2010 - New Hampshire, U.S.


novelist
short story writer


What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.
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I don't exactly know what I mean by that, but I mean it.
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Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do.
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Know your true measurements and dress your mind accordingly
- Catcher in the Rye


The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid and joy a liquid.
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Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.
- Nine Stories


He said I was unequipped to meet life because I had no sense of humor.
- For Esme - With Love and Squalor, and Other Stories


I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody.
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An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.
- Franny and Zooey


I have so much I want to tell you, and nowhere to begin.

The true poet has no choice of material. The material plainly chooses him, not he it. 
- Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour: An Introduction
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