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These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) 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 Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=45 .
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Please register at http://classicalmusicforums.com to post in the future.
We prefer deep reflections on Philosophy, Shakespearean Sonnets, and tender musings along the lines of:
LXVII Ah! wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace itself with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steel dead seeming of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is true? Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is, Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins? For she hath no exchequer now but his, And proud of many, lives upon his gains. O! him she stores, to show what wealth she had In days long since, before these last so bad. --William Shakespeare
Founding Fathers Quotes Do not fire unless fired upon. But if they want a war let it begin here. Captain John Parker, commander of the militiamen at Lexington, Massachusetts, on siting British Troops (attributed), April 19, 1775
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.
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and/or join the forums at Great Books & Philosophy Forums @ jollyrogerwest.com.
Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new. --Albert Einstein
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
XLIII When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow's form form happy show To the clear day with thy much clearer light, When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so! How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made By looking on thee in the living day, When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me. --William Shakespeare