This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
Rebecca West, pen name of Mrs. Cicily Maxwell Andrews, born Fairfield, aka Dame Rebecca West
We think in youth that our bodies are identical to ourselves and have the same interests, but discover later in life that they are heartless companions who have been accidentally yoked with us, and who are as likely as not, in our extreme sickness or old age, to treat us with less mercy than we would have received at the hands of the worst bandits.
Extreme | Life | Life | Mercy | Youth | Youth | Old | Think |
If there is mercy in nature, it is accidental. Nature is neither kind nor cruel but indifferent.
Richard Feynman, fully Richard Phillips Feynman
We've learned from experience that the truth will come out. Other experimenters will repeat your experiment and find out whether you were wrong or right. Nature's phenomena will agree or they'll disagree with your theory. And, although you may gain some temporary fame and excitement, you will not gain a good reputation as a scientist if you haven't tried to be very careful in this kind of work. And it's this type of integrity, this kind of care not to fool yourself, that is missing to a large extent in much of the research in cargo cult science.
Care | Cult | Experience | Experiment | Fame | Good | Phenomena | Reputation | Research | Truth | Will | Wrong |
Richard Neustadt, fully Richard Elliott Neustadt
The Washingtonians who watch a President have more to think about than his professional reputation. They also have to think about his standing with the public outside Washington. They have to gauge his popular prestige. Because they think about it, public standing is a source of influence for him, another factor bearing on their willingness to give him what he wants.Prestige, like reputation, is a subjective factor, a matter of judgment. It works on power just as reputation does through the mechanism of anticipated reactions. The same men, Washingtonians, to the judging. In the case of reputation they anticipate reactions from the President. In the instance of prestige they anticipate reactions from the public. Most members of the Washington community depend upon outsiders to support them or their interests. The dependence may be as direct as votes, or it may be as indirect as passive toleration. Dependent men must take account of popular reaction to their actions. What their publics may think of them becomes a factor, therefore, in deciding how to deal with the desires of a President. His prestige enters into that decision; their publics are part of his. Their view from inside Washington of how outsiders view him thus affects his influence with them.
Dependence | Influence | Men | Power | Public | Reputation | Think |
Some men's reputation seems like seed-wheat, which thrives best when brought from a distance.
Robert Benchley, fully Robert Charles Benchley
For a nation which has an almost evil reputation for bustle, bustle, bustle, and rush, rush, rush, we spend an enormous amount of time standing around in line in front of windows, just waiting.
Evil | Reputation | Time |
Robert Bork, fully Robert Heron Bork
Being 'at the mercy of legislative majorities' is merely another way of describing the basic American plan: representative democracy.
Mercy |
Robert Southwell, also Saint Robert Southwell
My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns; Love is the fire and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns; The fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals; The metal in this furnace wrought are men's defiled souls.
The Book, this Holy Book, on every line, Mark'd with the seal of high divinity, On every leaf bedew'd with drops of love Divine, and with the eternal heraldry And signature of God Almighty stamp'd From first to last; this ray of sacred light, This lamp, from off the everlasting throne, Mercy took down, and in the night of time Stood, casting on the dark her gracious bow; And evermore beseeching men With tears And earnest sighs, to read, believe and live.
Samuel ha-Nagid, born Samuel ibn Naghrela or Naghrillah
Is there a sea between me and you, that I should not turn aside to be with you, that I should not run with a troubled heart to sit at your grave-side? Truly, if I did not do so, I would be a traitor to our brotherly love. O my brother, here I am, facing you, sitting by your grave, and the grief in my heart is as great as on the day you died. If I greeted you, I would hear no reply. You do not come out to meet me when I visit your grounds. You will not laugh in my company, nor I in yours. You cannot see my face, nor I yours, for the pit is your home, the grave your dwelling-place! First-born of my father, son of my mother, may you have peace in your final rest, and may the spirit of God rest upon your spirit and your soul! I am returning to my own soil, for you have been locked under the soil. Sometimes I shall sleep, sometimes wake—while you lie in your sleep forever. But until my last day, the fire of your loss will remain in my heart!
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
To the glorious one, girdled by praise, Great in deeds and tremendous in ways, Who filleth with wonders our days, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Lord whose decrees never fail, Who spreadeth the clouds like a veil, And maketh the dust hard as mail, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Builder whose measures none knows, By whom the high heavens arose, And beauty like lightning that glows, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Judge who His servants will spare, For the souls of His faithful will care, And will make their inheritance fair, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Chief on whose breast Right is borne, Who is served by the seed to Him sworn, Who gathereth lilies from thorn, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Washer who whiteneth sin, Whose cloud blotteth evil within, Whose forgiveness repentance can win, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Alchemist turning his gold To the diamond’s perfection, clear, cold, Like the streams that Damascus enfold, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet. To the Lord who His scattered will keep, To whom cries of the lowly that weep Are dearer than bullocks or sheep, Blow ye at New Moon the trumpet.
Earth | Glory | Lord | Man | Mercy | Order | Praise | Soul | Will | Wisdom |
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
O Lord, who can comprehend Thy power? For Thou hast created for the splendour of Thy glory a pure radiance "Hewn from the rock of rocks and digged from the bottom of the pit." Thou hast imparted to it the spirit of wisdom And called it the Soul. And of flames of intellectual fire hast Thou wrought its form, And like a burning fire hast Thou wafted it, And sent it to the body to serve and guard it, And it is as fire in the midst thereof yet doth not consume it, For it is from the fire of the soul that the body hath been created, And goeth from Nothingness to Being, "Because the Lord descended on him in fire."
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
Three things remind me of You, the heavens who are a witness to Your name the earth which expands my thought and is the thing on which I stand and the musing of my heart when I look within.
Anger | Day | Glory | God | Good | Life | Life | Light | Lord | Mercy | Peace | Receive | Righteousness | Service | Unity | Will | World | God |
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
DUOLOGUE - God: "Daughter of Zion, tried in Sorrow’s furnace, E’en as I swore thy fathers, be at rest. I swore it for My sake, and now thy crying Hath mounted to My habitation blest, And I have heard, for gracious is My breast." Israel: "Obeisance low I made, for I am feeble, Thy kindliness responds to all who yearn. Come back, dear Lord, whose name is linked with pardon, No other saviour Israel can discern, Unto his myriad families return!" God: "Where’er thy origin, whosoe’er thy master, A man shall come—nay, I—thy cause to plead, Whoever holds the bill of thy divorcement. Like wall or tower of fire I guard thy seed, Then wherefore weep or heart affrighted heed?" p. 29 Israel: "Why do I weep? Because Thou keepest silence, Though violence rages and, all uncontrolled, The mob destroys, and we as slaves to strangers, Master and man together, have been sold, And no Redeemer do our eyes behold." God: "Who art thou thus to shrink from man in terror And be dismayed because of mankind’s scorn? My angel I will send, as wrote the prophet, And gather Israel winnowed and new-born: This miracle shall be to-morrow morn." Israel: "To gather me my chieftains Thou didst promise, The day comes not and miracle is none, Nor see I Temple built nor any herald Of Peace arrive to be my Holy One— Ah, wherefore lingers Jesse’s promised son?" God: "Behold, I keep the oath I swore to gather My captives—kings shall bring their gifts to thee; Created for a witness to the nations, My holy ones shall testify to Me— Yea, Jesse’s son Mine eyes already see."
Art | Force | Heart | Hope | Kindness | Mercy | Pain | People | Sorrow | Tears | Vision | Weapons | Art |
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT - Propound a mystery, O my tongue, and give praise to God, For He hath delivered me and exalted my horn. Awake, my heart, and turn to the Almighty, And in awe of His anger let my hand be lifted to Him. Set the Most High before thee, and know that every thought And every hidden imagining are to Him not hidden. Dread the day of His wrath, and the dreadful position Wherein is help or refuge for no creature. On the day He shall judge the peoples and destroy beings And wither all His adversaries as with the fiery blast of his nostrils And decree the fate of all potentates, officers and rulers, Nor pay regard to mighty princes. And destroy tyrants and cut off the scornful, The proud and presumptuous who rely on the preciousness of their palanquin; Who have forgotten their Creator and put their trust in their riches And prided themselves above high God, Who humbleth and uplifteth, And have rebelled against their Master, With their host and their multitude, And the silver they have acquired, and the fine gold and sapphires, And have built structures, and carved out windows, And erected palaces, and battlements and chambers, Nor remember the Almighty, But wax fat in the abundance of power, And speak arrogantly to Him And roar like young lions. But He is great and fearful, And girded about with might; He calleth the generations And from Him are the hill-tops. Doth He not regard the lowly, And abase every one that is proud? He will raise up the broken pauper And lift him from the dunghill. Woe to them for this, When their Creator shall sit in judgment, To take vengeance on them, their grown and their little ones, And they shall fall into the net, weeping bitterly, And when quaffing the cup of foaming wine Shall drain only dregs, And shall be consumed in their iniquity, And their riches shall not profit them, And all they build shall be upset As though overthrown by strangers. And the God of the ages will abhor the man of blood And will break the haughty Like a potter’s vessel, And will bring low their pride And silence their psaltery And make their voice sound Like a ghost from the dust, And demolish their battlements And their houses of pleasure, And make over their inheritance To strangers and aliens, And the gadfly shall sting them To determined destruction, And they shall be trodden of passers-by Like a ground or a street. Therefore turn ye from them and their counsels, Nor vie with them Lest your fate be as that of these arrogant.
Fighting | Forgiveness | Guile | Justice | Man | Mercy | Pity | Prayer | Sin | Wrong | Forgiveness | Old |
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
Two things have met in me, one in their ways, And stand within me, above or below, My tongue that hastes to proclaim Thy praise, My heart Thy greatness to see and know. The angels on high cannot speak of Thy glory, Then how shall contemptible man tell its story? When men bring tribute, an ox, say, or dove, The lean or the fat gives Thee equal delight, If but ’tis brought by a heart full of love. So too take my prayer as priestly rite, For my soul and spirit unite in Thy praise, Two things having met in me, one in their ways.
Salomon ibn Gabirol, aka Solomon ben Judah or Avicebron
May it please Thee, O Lord my God, To return to me in mercy, And to bring me back to Thee in perfect repentance. O dispose my heart and turn Thine ear to supplication, And open my heart to Thy law, And plant in my thoughts the fear of Thee, And decree for me good decrees, And annul the evil decrees against me, And lead me not into the power of temptation, Nor into the power of contempt, And from all evil chances deliver me, And hide me in Thy shadow until the havoc pass by, And be with my mouth in my meditation, And keep my ways from sin through my tongue, And remember me when Thou rememberest and favourest Thy people, And when Thou rebuildest Thy Temple, That I may behold the bliss of Thy chosen ones, And purify me to seek diligently Thy Sanctuary devastated and ruined, And to cherish its stones and its dust, And the clods of its desolation, And rebuild Thou its wastes!
Affliction | Eternal | Good | Mercy | Past | Pity | Rage | Rest | Reward | Trust | Wickedness | Will | Blessed |
Shoghí Effendi, fully Shoghí Effendí Rabbání
You should certainly safeguard your nerves and force yourself to take time, and not only for prayer and meditation, but for real rest and relaxation.
Forgiveness | Mercy | Mind | Object | Power | Rest | Strength | Thought | Will | Forgiveness | Thought |
John Bowring, fully Sir John Bowring
FROM the recesses of a lowly spirit My humble prayer ascends: O Father! hear it. Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness, Forgive its weakness. I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy The trembling sacrifice I pour before thee; What can I offer in thy presence holy, But sin and folly? For in thy sight, who every bosom viewest, Cold are our warmest vows and vain our truest; Thoughts of a hurrying hour; our lips repeat them, Our hearts forget them. We see thy hand—it leads us, it supports us; We hear thy voice—it counsels and it courts us; And then we turn away—and still thy kindness Pardons our blindness. And still thy rain descends, thy sun is glowing, Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing, And, as if man were some deserving creature, Joys cover nature. 20 Oh how long-suffering, Lord! but thou delightest To win with love the wandering; thou invitest By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors, Man from his errors. Who can resist thy gentle call, appealing To every generous thought and grateful feeling? That voice paternal whispering, watching ever, My bosom?—never. Father and Saviour! plant within that bosom These seeds of holiness; and bid them blossom In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal, And spring eternal. Then place them in those everlasting gardens Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens; Where every flower that creeps through death’s dark portal Becomes immortal.