SEPTEMBER 1, 1939I sit in one of the divesOn Fifty-second StreetUncertain and afraidAs the clever hopes expireOf a low dishonest decade:Waves of anger and fearCirculate over the brightAnd darkened lands of the earth,Obsessing our private lives;The unmentionable odour of deathOffends the September night.Accurate scholarship canUnearth the whole offenceFrom Luther until nowThat has driven a culture mad,Find what occurred at Linz,What huge imago madeA psychopathic god:I and the public knowWhat all schoolchildren learn,Those to whom evil is doneDo evil in return.Exiled Thucydides knewAll that a speech can sayAbout Democracy,And what dictators do,The elderly rubbish they talkTo an apathetic grave;Analysed all in his book,The enlightenment driven away,The habit-forming pain,Mismanagement and grief:We must suffer them all again.Into this neutral airWhere blind skyscrapers useTheir full height to proclaimThe strength of Collective Man,Each language pours its vainCompetitive excuse:But who can live for longIn an euphoric dream;Out of the mirror they stare,Imperialism's faceAnd the international wrong.Faces along the barCling to their average day:The lights must never go out,The music must always play,All the conventions conspireTo make this fort assumeThe furniture of home;Lest we should see where we are,Lost in a haunted wood,Children afraid of the nightWho have never been happy or good.The windiest militant trashImportant Persons shoutIs not so crude as our wish:What mad Nijinsky wroteAbout DiaghilevIs true of the normal heart;For the error bred in the boneOf each woman and each manCraves what it cannot have,Not universal loveBut to be loved alone.From the conservative darkInto the ethical lifeThe dense commuters come,Repeating their morning vow;'I will be true to the wife,I'll concentrate more on my work,'And helpless governors wakeTo resume their compulsory game:Who can release them now,Who can reach the dead,Who can speak for the dumb?All I have is a voiceTo undo the folded lie,The romantic lie in the brainOf the sensual man-in-the-streetAnd the lie of AuthorityWhose buildings grope the sky:There is no such thing as the StateAnd no one exists alone;Hunger allows no choiceTo the citizen or the police;We must love one another or die.Defenseless under the nightOur world in stupor lies;Yet, dotted everywhere,Ironic points of lightFlash out wherever the JustExchange their messages:May I, composed like themOf Eros and of dust,Beleaguered by the sameNegation and despair,Show an affirming flame.
W.H. Auden
Some Christian lawyers—some eminent and stupid judges—have said and still say, that the Ten Commandments are the foundation of all law.Nothing could be more absurd. Long before these commandments were given there were codes of laws in India and Egypt—laws against murder, perjury, larceny, adultery and fraud. Such laws are as old as human society; as old as the love of life; as old as industry; as the idea of prosperity; as old as human love.All of the Ten Commandments that are good were old; all that were new are foolish. If Jehovah had been civilized he would have left out the commandment about keeping the Sabbath and in its place would have said: 'Thou shalt not enslave thy fellow-men.' He would have omitted the one about swearing and said: 'The man shall have but one wife and the woman but one husband.' He would have left out the one about graven images and in its stead would have said: 'Thou shalt not wage wars of extermination and thou shalt not unsheathe the sword except in self-defence.'If Jehovah had been civilized, how much grander the Ten Commandments would have been.All that we call progress—the enfranchisement of man, of labor, the substitution of imprisonment for death, of fine for imprisonment, the destruction of polygamy, the establishing of free speech, of the rights of conscience; in short, all that has tended to the development and civilization of man; all the results of investigation, observation, experience and free thought; all that man has accomplished for the benefit of man since the close of the Dark Ages—has been done in spite of the Old Testament.
Robert G. Ingersoll
About my father.....My father was a very simple person. When I was small I never understood why he is so simple actually I disliked it. He use to go to office and return late and have dinner with us. I use to think he never stood for me on anything. But he was the person who uses to take me to the market for Diwali shopping. He uses to give me 20 Rs to eat at school when he had only 30. He tried to fulfill all my wishes in his range. He uses to take me on his bicycle after school tuition and walk while making me sit on bicycle. He uses to scare away lizards for me. He uses to play with me. He was the one who told me to work hard when I failed. He never scolded me for studies but only when I killed an insect intentionally. He was the one who taught me physics and mathematics.Once he found a wounded parrot on the road and he bought him home. He brought medicine for him and applied it on his wounds. Later on a cat took that parrot and he ran after her but the parrot died. He did not had proper food for three four days.He spent each and every penny of his earning for our happiness and never forgot to return any pending amount. He use to talk to us but very less and joke sometimes. His style was very different, we use to tell him to use dye or color on his hairs but he always refused. And when he smiled and laughed he doesn’t stop. For every question he had one answer:-TRUST GOD HE WILL DO EVERYTHING,HE IS THE ONE WHO DOES EVERYTHING. He uses to discuss with us lot on Bhagwat Gita. Once he told me:- Bade prem se milna jag mae sabse aye insaan na jane kis vesh mae tujse mil jayen bhagwaan(meet each person with full love as you never know in which form god will come in front of you).To that I replied:- But according to Bhagwat gita this is kalyug and all will deceive you if you do that. He never drunk alcohol or had non-veg.His habits were like –If he don’t want to do something he will not do it. But later on he started consulting me (A foolish person like me).I use to shout at him each time I was leaving home as he use to put my wallet at some secret safe place. And when he had not kept it even I use to say you must have kept it. He just kept quiet. But later I came to know about the place and it was always the same and I myself realized that why am I shouting at him. Once he said to me bache apne aap he sekhtae hain(Children learn by themselves). I daily use to woke up walk up to him and say something and then lie down beside him and sleep again. I had lot of fights with him and he was never angry on me. He was just realizing that I am becoming responsible son and we had lot of dreams together and we use to plan a lot.His smile, his eyes, his habits, his innocence, his politeness , his sense of responsibility , his teachings , his knowledge ,his humble nature, his moral values, his love for humans and animals, being non arrogant , no anger, he was never hungry for money , his voice :- hello Sonu beta , theak ho ( My Son – Sonu , are you fine) , his watch, his mobile case, his phone, his shoes, his specs , his laugh, his jokes and all the qualities that were infinite.
Amit Dixit
I have a proposition for you, she said, trying for a businesslike tone. A very sensible one. You see— She paused to clear her throat. I’ve been thinking about your problem. What problem? Cam played lightly with the folds of her skirts, watching her face alertly. Your good-luck curse. I know how to get rid of it. You should marry into a family with very, very bad luck. A family with expensive problems. And then you won’t have to be embarrassed about having so much money, because it will flow out nearly as fast as it comes in. Very sensible. Cam took her shaking hand in his, pressed it between his warm palms. And touched his foot to her rapidly tapping one. Hummingbird, he whispered, you don’t have to be nervous with me. Gathering her courage, Amelia blurted out, I want your ring. I want never to take it off again. I want to be your romni forever— she paused with a quick, abashed smile— whatever that is. My bride. My wife. Amelia froze in a moment of throat-clenching delight as she felt him slide the gold ring onto her finger, easing it to the base. When we were with Leo, tonight, she said scratchily, I knew exactly how he felt about losing Laura. He told me once that I couldn’t understand unless I had loved someone that way. He was right. And tonight, as I watched you with him … I knew what I would think at the very last moment of my life. His thumb smoothed over the tender surface of her knuckle. Yes, love? I would think, she continued, ‘ Oh, if I could have just one more day with Cam. I would fit a lifetime into those few hours.’ Not necessary, he assured her gently. Statistically speaking, we’ll have at least ten, fifteen thousand days to spend together. I don’t want to be apart from you for even one of them. Cam cupped her small, serious face in his hands, his thumbs skimming the trace of tears beneath her eyes. His gaze caressed her. Are we to live in sin, love, or will you finally agree to marry me? Yes. Yes. I’ll marry you. Although … I still can’t promise to obey you. Cam laughed quietly. We’ll manage around that. If you’ll at least promise to love me. Amelia gripped his wrists, his pulse steady and strong beneath her fingertips. Oh, I do love you, you’re— I love you, too. — my fate. You’re everything I— She would have said more, if he had not pulled her head to his, kissing her with hard, thrilling pressure.
Lisa Kleypas