If all people were only as good as me, mankind would be the way it is.
von George Gordon (Lord) Byron
So, we’ll go no more a–roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a–roving
By the light of the moon.
A strong and united nation may be destroyed if it is unprepared against sudden attack. But even a nation well armed and well organized from a strictly military standpoint may, after a period of time, meet defeat if it is unnerved by self-distrust, endangered by class prejudice, by dissension between capital and labor, by false economy and by other unsolved social problems at home.
von Emily Dickinson
It’s all I have to bring to-day—
This, and my heart beside—
This, and my heart, and all the fields—
And all the meadows wide—
Be sure you count—should I forget—
Some one the sum could tell—
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.
Ein Schwein zerlegen
Roboter in der Fleischerei: „Aber, XC357, ich habe dir doch gesagt, dass du ein Schwein zerlegen sollst, und nicht die Frau Schweinsberger!“
(Inspiriert von einem Xing-Leserkommentar, nach dem Roboter in einer Fleischerei kaum Anwendung finden dürften. Siehe hier auch „140 Zeichen (10)“ über schwere Zeiten voraus und „Wie denken Menschen über künstliche Intelligenz?“)
If you want truth to go round the world you must hire an express train to pull it; but if you want a lie to go round the world, it will fly: it is as light as a feather, and a breath will carry it.
The question is not: how can there be poetry after holocausts?
But: how can there be holocausts after poetry?
(An antithesis to Adorno’s statement that writing poetry after Auschwitz was barbaric. From the film: In Praise of Nothing/ Slatko od nista by Boris Mitić, Serbia, Croatia, France 2017, spoken by Iggy Pop)
Robert Musil über das Rauchen
Ich behandle das Leben als etwas Unangenehmes, über das man durch Rauchen hinwegkommen kann!
von Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.