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These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Johann Christian (J.C.) Bach (1735-1782) 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 Johann Christian (J.C.) Bach (1735-1782) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=31 .
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We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:
If A is a success in life, then A equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut. --Albert Einstein
CXIX What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, Distill'd from limbecks foul as hell within, Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears, Still losing when I saw myself to win! What wretched errors hath my heart committed, Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never! How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted, In the distraction of this madding fever! O benefit of ill! now I find true That better is, by evil still made better; And ruin'd love, when it is built anew, Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater. So I return rebuk'd to my content, And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent. --William Shakespeare
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.
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A thing of beauty is a joy forever, Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. -John Keats
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
CXLIV Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil, Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride. And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; But being both from me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another's hell: Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out. --William Shakespeare