Everything's great in this good old world;
(This is the stuff they can always use.)
God's in his heaven, the hill's dew-pearled;
(This will provide for baby's shoes.)
Hunger and War do not mean a thing;
Everything's rosy where'er we roam;
Hark, how the little birds gaily sing!
(This is what fetches the bacon home.)
-- Dorothy Parker, "The Far Sighted Muse"
Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tin'uviel! Tin'uviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came
And doom fell on Tin'uviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tin'uviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of iron and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
Wake now my merry lads! Wake and hear me calling!
Warm now be heart and limb! The cold stone is fallen;
Dark door is standing wide; dead hand is broken.
Night under Night is flown, and the Gate is open!
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
I have no doubt the Devil grins,
As seas of ink I spatter.
Ye gods, forgive my "literary" sins--
The other kind don't matter.
-- Robert W. Service
When a lion meets another with a louder roar,
the first lion thinks the last a bore.
-- G.B. Shaw
When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big joke, Sixty years in these folks' world
A dance that's walked The child I works for calls me girl
A song that's spoke, I say "Yes ma'am" for working's sake.
I laugh so hard I almost choke Too proud to bend
When I think about myself. Too poor to break,
I laugh until my stomach ache,
When I think about myself.
My folks can make me split my side,
I laughed so hard I nearly died,
The tales they tell, sound just like lying,
They grow the fruit,
But eat the rind,
I laugh until I start to crying,
When I think about my folks.
-- Maya Angelou
I had an errand there: gathering water-lilies,
green leaves and lilies white to please my pretty lady,
the last ere the year's end to keep them from the winter,
to flower by her pretty feet till the snows are melted.
Each year at summer's end I go to find them for her,
in a wide pool, deep and clear, far down Withywindle;
there they open first in spring and there they linger latest.
By that pool long ago I found the River-daughter,
fair young Goldberry sitting in the rushes.
Sweet was her singing then, and her heart was beating!
And that proved well for you--for now I shall no longer
go down deep again along the forest-water,
no while the year is old. Nor shall I be passing
Old Man Willow's house this side of spring-time,
not till the merry spring, when the River-daughter
dances down the withy-path to bathe in the water.
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
-- J.R.R. Tolkien
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore
I do not like me anymore,
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse,
I ponder on the narrow house
I shudder at the thought of men
I'm due to fall in love again.
-- Dorothy Parker, "Enough Rope"
Ho! Ho! Ho! to the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
And many miles be still to go,
But under a tall tree I will lie,
And let the clouds go sailing by.
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
By the time you swear you're his,
shivering and sighing
and he vows his passion is
infinite, undying --
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
-- Dorothy Parker, "Unfortunate Coincidence"
Hop along my little friends, up the Withywindle!
Tom's going on ahead candles for to kindle.
Down west sinks the Sun; soon you will be groping.
When the night-shadows fall, then the door will open,
Out of the winfow-panes light will twinkle yellow.
Fear no alder black! Heed no hoary willow!
Fear neither root nor bough! Tom goes on before you.
Hey now! merry dol! We'll be waiting for you!
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna m'iriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na chaered palan-d'iriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, s'i nef aearon!
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
Drink and dance and laugh and lie
Love, the reeling midnight through
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
-- Dorothy Parker, "The Flaw in Paganism"
The ladies men admire, I've heard,
Would shudder at a wicked word.
Their candle gives a single light;
They'd rather stay at home at night.
They do not keep awake till three,
Nor read erotic poetry.
They never sanction the impure,
Nor recognize an overture.
They shrink from powders and from paints...
So far, I've had no complaints.
-- Dorothy Parker
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
-- William Blake
We've tried each spinning space mote
And reckoned its true worth:
Take us back again to the homes of men
On the cool, green hills of Earth.
The arching sky is calling
Spacemen back to their trade.
All hands! Standby! Free falling!
And the lights below us fade.
Out ride the sons of Terra,
Far drives the thundering jet,
Up leaps the race of Earthmen,
Out, far, and onward yet--
We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.
-- Robert A. Heinlein, 1941
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief and pain
For promised joy.
-- Robert Burns, "To a Mouse", 1785
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction, ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
-- Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"
Now I lay me back to sleep.
The speaker's dull; the subject's deep.
If he should stop before I wake,
Give me a nudge for goodness' sake.
-- Anonymous
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
-- John Donne
The man she had was kind and clean
And well enough for every day,
But oh, dear friends, you should have seen
The one that got away.
-- Dorothy Parker, "The Fisherwoman"
If a nation expects to be ignorant and free,
... it expects what never was and never will be.
-- Thomas Jefferson
Romeo was restless, he was ready to kill,
He jumped out the window 'cause he couldn't sit still,
Juliet was waiting with a safety net,
Said "don't bury me 'cause I ain't dead yet".
-- Elvis Costello
Every love's the love before
In a duller dress.
-- Dorothy Parker, "Summary"
How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?
-- Pink Floyd
A box without hinges, key, or lid,
Yet golden treasure inside is hid.
-- J.R.R. Tolkien
You will find me drinking gin
In the lowest kind of inn,
Because I am a rigid Vegetarian.
-- G.K. Chesterton
“For a couple o' pins,” says Troll, and grins,
"I'll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.
A bit o' fresh meat will go down sweet!
I'll try my teeth on thee now.
Hee now! See now!
I'm tired o' gnawing old bones and skins;
I've a mind to dine on thee now."
But just as he thought his dinner was caught,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Tom slipped behing
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A bump o' the boot on the seat, Tom thoguht,
Would be the way to larn him.
But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the mountain's root,
For the seat of a troll don't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan,
And he knew his toes could feel it.
Tom's leg is game, since home he came,
And his bootless foot is lasting lame;
But Troll don't care, and he's still there
With the bone he boned from its owner.
Doner! Boner!
Troll's old seat is still the same,
And the bone he boned from its owner!
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
A man is like a rusty wheel on a rusty cart,
He sings his song as he rattles along and then he falls apart.
-- Richard Thompson