|
|
These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Orlande de Lassus (1532-1594) 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 Orlande de Lassus (1532-1594) Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=10 .
To foster quality discussion forums throughout Classicals.com, from now on only registered members may post. Spam will not be tolerated. If you would like to help moderate, please contact "jolly roger ship @ yahoo . com".
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:
O, thou art fairer than the evening's air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars. -Faustus, 1604
Equations are more important to me, because politics is for the present, but an equation is something for eternity. --Albert Einstein
It is our continuing goal to foster the world's greatest converstation regarding all higher pursuits.
In the future, please register and make all posts to http://classicalmusicforums.com,
and/or join the forums at Great Books & Philosophy Forums @ jollyrogerwest.com.
V Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel; For never-resting time leads summer on To hideous winter, and confounds him there; Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where: Then were not summer's distillation left, A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was: But flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet, Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet. --William Shakespeare
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
Beauty is truth, truth is beauty, -that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn, 1819