|
From First Timothy, 4:7-16. New International Version
Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives' tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.
This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance (and for this we labor and strive), that we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, and especially of those who believe.
Command and teach these things. Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity. Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of the scripture, to preaching and to teaching. Do not neglect your gift, which was given to you through a prophetic message when the body of elders laid their hands on you.
Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress. Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.
From Douglas Adams' Mostly Harmless
"'You cannot see what I see because you see what you see. You cannot know what I see because you know what you know. What I see and what I know cannot be added to what you see and what you know because they are not of the same kind. Neither can it replace what you see and what you know, because that would be to replace yourself.... Everything you see or hear or experience in any way at all is specific to you. You create a universe by perceiving it, so everything in the universe you perceive is specific to you.'"
From Duck Soup
After I leave here tonight, will you ever forgive me? Here are the plans of war. They're as valuable as your life, and that's putting them pretty cheap. Watch them like a cat watches her kittens. Have you ever had kittens? No, of course not. Youre too busy running around playing bridge. Cant you see what I'm trying to tell you? I love you. Why dont you marry me? You take me and I'll take a vacation. I'll need a vacation if were going to get married...married. I can see you right now in the kitchen, bending over a hot stove. But I can't see the stove. Come, say the word and you'll never see me again.
From various part's of Hemingway's A Farewell To Arms
"She went a long way away without stirring or removing her hand."
"'Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush.'"
"...You could not go back. If you did not go forward what happened? You never got back to Milan. And if you got back to Milan what happened?..."
"I had made a separate peace." (Thats the name of another war novel. Did anyone else catch that?)
"...I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started"
Thesis and abstact from a report (by me) about Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
James Joyce's novel A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is one about sins; sins committed against Stephen Dedalus, sins committed by Stephen, Stephens atonement of his sins, and Stephens rejection of the ideology of sin.
Stephen is abused and mistreated by his classmates throughout his lower education. Even his father and teachers ignore and abuse him. He falls into the allure of sin; he visits prostitutes and commits all seven deadly sins. During a school retreat, he is frightened by the preacher's visualization of Hell. He confesses all his sins and begins life anew. He creates a "rigorous discipline" of his body to follow, and becomes interested in the ministry before succumbing to sin again. Upon entering the university, he becomes a new individual with his own (admired) sense of aesthetics and policies before leaving Ireland for Paris.
My friend Julian and I wrote this in church. It is entitled The Rejected Dick and Jane Story
See Spot.
See Spot spot.
Spot Spot, spot.
See Spotty the scotty go potty.
See Spot.
See Little Vinnie the Hitman.
See Spot see Little Vinnie the Hitman.
See Spot spot Little Vinnie the Hitman.
See Little Vinnie the Hitman go Gangsta on Spot.
Run Spot, Run.
Too late!
See Little Vinnie the Hitman splat Spot all over the room.
See Spot's spots.
More from various part's of Hemingway's A Farewell To Arms
"'You are wise.'
"'No, that is the great fallacy; the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful.'
"'Perhaps that is wisdom.'
"'It is a very unattractive wisdom. What do you value most?'
"'Someone I love.'
"'With me it is the same. That is not wisdom. Do you value life?'
"'So do I. Because it is all I have. And to go to Birthday parties,' he laughed. 'You are probably wiser than I am. You do not give birthday parties.'
"We both drank the wine.
"'What do you think of the war really?' I asked.
"'I think it is stupid.'
"'Who will win it?'
"'Italy.'
"'Why?'
"'They are a younger nation.'
"'Do younger nations always win wars?'
"'They are apt for a time.'
"'They what happens?'
"'They become older nations.'
"'You said you were not wise.'
"'Dear boy, that is not wisdom. That is cynicism.'
"'It sound very wise to me.'
"'It's not particularly. I could quote you the examples on the other side.'"
From Joyce's Ulysses
Under the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in whispering water swaying and upturning coy silver fronds. Day by day: night by night: lifted, flooded and let fall. Lord, they are weary: and, whispered to, they sigh. Saint Ambrose heard it, sigh of leaves and waves, waiting, awaiting the fullness of their times, diebus ac noctibus iniurias patiens ingemiscit. To no end gathered: vainly then released, forth flowing, wending back: loom of the moon. Weary too in sight of lovers, lascivious men, a naked woman shining in her courts, she draws a toil of waters.
Five fathoms out there. Full fathom five thy father lies. At one he said. Found drowned. High water at Dublin bar. Driving before it a loose drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. A corpse rising saltwhite from the undertow, bobbing landward, a pace a pace a porpoise. There he is. Hook it quick. Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. We have him. Easy now.
Bag of corpsegas sopping in foul brine. A quiver of minnows, fat of a spongy titbit, flash through the slits of his buttoned trouserfly. God becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes featherbed mountain. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead. Hauled stark over the gunwale he breathes upward the stench of his green grave, his leprous nosehole snoring to the sun
More from various part's of Hemingway's A Farewell To Arms
"...That was what you did. You died. You did not know what it was about. You never had time to learn. They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time they caught you off base they killed you. Or they killed you gratuitously like Aymo [Who was mistaken for an Austrian by his own troops]. Or gave you the Syphilis like Rinaldi [the narrators friend]. But they killed you in the end. You could count on that. Stay around and they would kill you.
"Once in camp I put a log on top of the fire and it was full of ants. And it commenced to burn, the ants swarmed out and went first toward the center where the fire was; then turned back and ran toward the end. When there were enough on the end they fell off into the fire. Some got out, their bodies burnt and flattened, and went off not knowing where they were going. But most of them went toward the fire and then back toward the end and swarmed on the cool end and finally fell of into the fire. I remember thinking at the time that it was the end of the world and a splendid chance to be a messiah and lift the log off the fire and throw it out where the ants could get onto the ground. But I did not do anything but throw a tin cup of water on the log, so that I would have the cup empty to put whiskey in before I added water to it. I think the cup of water on the burning log only steamed the ants."
An assignment for my Oral Litterature class
This was a person of my height: somewhat short of six feet tall. With short, dark blond hair in spikes, and bright blue eyes, it isn't surprising I found interest in someone who resembles myself. Wearing a Boy Scout uniform (boots, green pants, kacki shirt with many patches, neckerchief and slide) and carying a red folder, this person seemed to be on a mission of sorts; he certainly seemed like he knew what he was doing. His face is covered with acne, but you can see his bright but somewhat crooked smile when he laughs at a joke he made. He commands respect when he talks (if not telling a joke) and has all the information he needs to do the presentation that he needs to give; when he does tell a joke, all listen, and watch his somewhat wild gestures and expressions. He bounced when he walked (again like myself) and speaks quickly but fluidly. True, it is my younger brother by four years, I just wish I could be as grown up as him.
|
