Cole Smith

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Lord Byron
“When elements to elements conform,
And dust is as it should be, shall I not
Feel all I see, less dazzling, but more warm?
The bodiless thought? the Spirit of each spot?
Of which, even now, I share at times the immortal lot?”
Lord Byron, Byron: Poems

Thomas Gray
“Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove;
Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.”
Thomas Gray, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

Fernando Pessoa
“Outside, in the slow moonlit night, the wind slowly shakes things that cast fluttering shadows. Perhaps it's just hanging laundry from the floor above, but the shadows don't know they're from shirts, and they impalpably flutter in hushed harmony with everything else.”
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

John Muir
“At your feet lies the great Central Valley glowing golden in the sunshine, extending north and south farther than the eye can reach, one smooth, flowery, lake-like bed of fertile soil. Along its eastern margin rises the mighty Sierra, miles in height, reposing like a smooth, cumulous cloud in the sunny sky, and so gloriously colored, and so luminous, it seems to be not colored with light, but wholly composed of it, like the wall of some celestial city. Along the top, and extending a good way down, you see a pale, pearl-gray belt of snow; and before it a belt of blue and dark purple, marking the extension of the forests; and along the base of the range a broad belt of rose-purple and yellow, where lie the miner's goldfields and the foot-hill gardens. All these colored belts blending smoothly make a wall of light ineffably fine, and as beautiful as a rainbow, yet firm as adamant.”
John Muir, The Mountains of California

William Shakespeare
“Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality o’ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.”
William Shakespeare, Shakespeare's Sonnets

202644 Theatre Books and Plays — 1524 members — last activity May 02, 2026 04:31AM
A room for lovers of theatre, theater books, texts on acting, directing, theory and scripts.
211192 The Immortal Poets Society — 132 members — last activity May 12, 2024 04:14AM
We read and discuss poetry from Homer to Frost. We are mostly interested in English and American poetry from Shakespeare to T.S. Eliot and Robert Fros ...more
124945 Experimental Poetry — 187 members — last activity Aug 25, 2023 04:02PM
for experimental poetry enthusiasts +++++++ from all corners of the avant/arriere-garde... futurism, dada, ultraism, gendai haiku, surrealism, angry ...more
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