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These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Carl Philipp Emanuel (C.P.E.) Bach (1714-1788) Forum is at classicalmusicforums.com.
The former post was deleted as it violated our user agreement, or it did not add to the "Classical Music & Art" conversation in a constructive manner.
The new Carl Philipp Emanuel (C.P.E.) Bach (1714-1788) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=29 .
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We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:
LVII Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend; Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour, Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour, When you have bid your servant once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are, how happy you make those. So true a fool is love, that in your will, Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. --William Shakespeare
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new. --Albert Einstein
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.
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This glad union hadmade it morning there, And evening here: our hemisphere was dark, While all the mountain bathed in white, when I Saw Beatrice turned around, facing left, her eyes raised to the sun-no eagle ever couls stare so fixed and straight into such light! -Dante, The Divine Comedy: Paradise
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
XLIV If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, Injurious distance should not stop my way; For then despite of space I would be brought, From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. No matter then although my foot did stand Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee; For nimble thought can jump both sea and land, As soon as think the place where he would be. But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought, To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that so much of earth and water wrought, I must attend, time's leisure with my moan; Receiving nought by elements so slow But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. --William Shakespeare