April 30, 2000
Every man has a right to a Saturday night bath.
April 29, 2000
is the best meditation.
April 28, 2000
Parenthood remains the greatest single preserve of the amateur.
April 27, 2000
is a time when we find the books we give up but do not get over.
from little fountains flow, / Tall oaks from little acorns grow.
Work is accomplished
by those employees who have not yet reached their level of incompetence.
—Laurence J. Peter
But war ’s
a game which were their subjects wise / Kings would not play at.
hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
—John, xiii. 21
The Lord went
before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire.
April 21, 2000
they ask me, as of late they frequently do, how I have for so many years continued an equal interest in medicine and the poem,
I reply that they amount for me to nearly the same thing.
—William Carlos Williams
The loss of
wealth is loss of dirt, / As sages in all times assert; / The happy man ’s without a shirt.
April 19, 2000
soup sustains. The process of making it is somewhat like the process of learning to love. It requires commitment, extraordinary
effort, time, and will make you cry.
April 18, 2000
These are the times that try men’s souls.
April 17, 2000
is the soul of intellect, and reading is the essential process by which that intellect is cultivated beyond the commonplace
experiences of everyday life.
—Charles Scribner, Jr.
April 16, 2000
There is no mistake; there has been no mistake; and there shall be no
—Duke of Wellington
April 15, 2000
Brilliantly lit from stem to stern, she looked like a sagging birthday cake.
Heaven has no rage
like love to hatred turned, / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Poetry is ordinary
language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate,
tough skin of words.
April 12, 2000
A clay pot sitting in the sun will always be a clay pot. It has to go through the white heat of the furnace
to become porcelain.
April 11, 2000
The eyes of others our prisons; their
thoughts our cages.
April 10, 2000
Poems greater than the Iliad, plays greater than Macbeth, stories more engaging than Don Quixote
await their seeker and finder.
April 9, 2000
Certum est, quia impossibile est. (It
is certain because it is impossible.)
April 8, 2000
Where choice begins, Paradise ends, innocence ends, for what is Paradise but the absence of any need to choose
April 7, 2000
You can get help from teachers, but you are going to have to learn a lot by yourself, sitting alone in a room.
The vulgar boil, the
learned roast, an egg.
April 5, 2000
Prose books are the show dogs I breed and sell to support my cat.
Time has laid his
hand / Upon my heart gently, not smiting it, / But as a harper lays his open palm / Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.
—Henry W. Longfellow
April is the cruellest
month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire, stirring / Dull roots with spring rain.…
Envy is as persistent
as memory, as intractable as a head cold.
April 1, 2000
Whanne that April with his shoures sote / The droughte of March hath
perced to the rote.
March 31, 2000
He was my North, my South, my East and West, / My working week and my Sunday rest, / My noon, my midnight, my
talk, my song; / I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
—W. H. Auden
Literature has been the
salvation of the damned, literature has inspired and guided lovers, routed despair and can perhaps in this case save the world.
Come, gentle Spring!
ethereal Mildness! come.
March 28, 2000
The mind is its own place, and in itself
/ Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
I can’t deny the
fact that you like me! You like me!
March 26, 2000
Art is our chief means of breaking bread with the dead.
great age begins anew, / The golden years return, / The earth doth like a snake renew / Her winter weeds outworn.
—Percy Bysshe Shelley
Spring has many American
faces. There are cities where it will come and go in a day and counties where it hangs around and never quite gets there…
Knowing I lov’d
my books, he furnish’d me from mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
I am not so lost
in lexicography as to forget that words are the daughters of earth, and that things are the sons of heaven.
The events in our
lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order … the continuous
thread of revelation.
March 20, 2000
The true University of these days is a Collection of Books.