This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
There is something fluid about [packs] during the course of any individual manifestation. [p. 127]
One would expect writers and artists to understand one another better than anyone else and to be more appreciative of one another's works. That, sadly, is not always the case. Writers Rarely say anything positive About each Other.
Acceptance | Change | Mistake | Past | People | Submission |
No reason to feel depressed about being depressed. A depression can be a golden opportunity to collect the pieces and build ourselves anew. Global Souls are always on the move, nomads at heart, connected to various cities, commuters between cultures, both from here and everywhere.
To eradicate or modify or curb the tendencies which thus survive among civilized men is not a matter of intellectual conviction or training.
Reason, you rogue, reason: thinkest thou, I'll endanger my soul gratis?
ROMEO: Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing. Mercutio: True, I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind, who wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south. BENVOLIO: This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves; supper is done, and we shall come too late.
Love |
See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He that but fears the thing he would not know, hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, that what he feared is chanced.
Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys and my usances; still have I borne it with a patient shrug, For suff’rance is the badge of all our tribe; You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help; Go to, then; you come to me, and you say ‘Shylock, we would have moneys.’ you say so: you that did void your rheum upon my beard, and foot me as you spurn a stranger cur over your threshold; moneys is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say ‘hath a dog money? Is it possible a cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ or shall I bend low and, in a bondman’s key, with bated breath and whisp’ring humbleness, say this:— ‘fair sir, you spit on me on wednesday last; you spurn’d me such a day; another time you call’d me dog; and for these courtesies I’ll lend you thus much moneys? Merchant of Venice, Act i, Scene 3
Men |
ROSENCRANTZ: Do you take me for a sponge, my lord? HAMLET: Ay, sir; that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end: he keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again. ROSENCRANTZ: I understand you not, my lord. HAMLET: I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
Body |
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
See, your guests approach. Address yourself to entertain them sprightly, and let's be red with mirth.
She that was ever fair, and never proud, had tongue at will, and yet was never loud... She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, see suitors following, and not look behind. She was a wight, if ever such wight were— to suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
ROSENCRANTZ: My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. HAMLET: The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing. GUILDENSTERN: A thing my lord? HAMLET: Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after!
Body | Speech | Understand |
I'd like to go to Sicily because of what Goethe said: Without seeing Sicily, one can not have a clear idea of Italy .
Enough | Genius | Growth | Circumstance | Understand |
Given that life is so short, do I really want to spend one-ninetieth of my remaining days on earth reading Edward Gibbon?
Cause | Happy | Observation | Quiet | Statistics | Work | World |
It was like time would stop, and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal and he wasn't doing anything different than he had ever done, 1,000 nights before, but everything would align. And all of a sudden, he would no longer appear to be merely human. He would be lit from within, and lit from below and all lit up on fire with divinity. And when this happened, back then, people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by its name. They would put their hands together and they would start to chant, Allah, Allah, Allah, God God, God. That's God, you know.
I won the argument against the knife that night, but barely. I had some other good ideas around that time--about how jumping off a building or blowing my brains out with a gun might stop the suffering. but something about spending a night with a knife in my hand did it. The next morning I called my friend Susan as the sun came up, begged her to help me. I don't think a woman in the whole history of my family had ever done that before, had ever sat in the middle of the road like that and said, in the middle of her life, I cannot walk another step further--somebody has to help me.
Will |