Monday, October 23, 2006


I am sick at heart

--I am sick at heart,
When I behold--Seyton, I say! --This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Macbeth - William Shakespeare

Wednesday, October 04, 2006


An Epitaph

"For Paul Laurence Dunbar"

Born of the sorrowful of heart,
Mirth was a crown upon his head;
Pride kept his twisted lips apart
In jest, to hide a heart that bled.

Countee Cullen (1903-1946)

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