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These forums are being phased out. The new, improved Surrealism 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 Surrealism Forum may be found at http://classicalmusicforums.com/forumdisplay.php?f=71 .
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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:
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
And his heart was stirred, it felt a father's kindness: such an emotion as the possessor of beauty can inspire in one who offered himself up in spirit to create beauty. -Thomas Mann, Death in Venice
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.
LXIV When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz'd, And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded, to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate-- That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death which cannot choose But weep to have, that which it fears to lose. --William Shakespeare
All The Best,
William Einstein Shakespeare :)
Beauty hath no true glass, except it be In the sweet privacy of loving eyes. -James Russell Lowell (1843)