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These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Dada 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 Dada Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=64 .
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We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:
XCVIII From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away, As with your shadow I with these did play. --William Shakespeare
There is in true beauty, as in courage, something which narrow souls cannot dare to admire. -William Congreve, 1693
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.
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CXXIX The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action: and till action, lust Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest, to have extreme; A bliss in proof,-- and prov'd, a very woe; Before, a joy propos'd; behind a dream. All this the world well knows; yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. --William Shakespeare
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
CXXI 'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd, When not to be receives reproach of being; And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing: For why should others' false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which in their wills count bad what I think good? No, I am that I am, and they that level At my abuses reckon up their own: I may be straight though they themselves be bevel; By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown; Unless this general evil they maintain, All men are bad and in their badness reign. --William Shakespeare