This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
O my love, my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
The business of conception is to present us with an exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived. But we have, moreover, a power of modifying our conceptions, by combining the parts of different ones together, so as to form new wholes of our own creation. I shall employ the word imagination to express this power, and I apprehend that this is the proper sense of the word, if imagination be the power which gives birth to the productions of the poet and the painter. The operations of imagination are by no means confined to the materials which conception furnishes, but may be equally employed about all the subjects of our knowledge.
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, and young affection gapes to be his heir; that fair for which love groan'd for and would die, with tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, alike betwitched by the charm of looks, but to his foe supposed he must complain, and she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: being held a foe, he may not have access to breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; and she as much in love, her means much less to meet her new-beloved anywhere: but passion lends them power, time means, to meet tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
Duke Ellington, fully Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington
You can’t write music right unless you know how the man that’ll play it plays poker.
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, the day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry.
Nature |
O, men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming, by thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought put on for villainy, not born where't grows, but worn a bait for ladies.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven. All's Well That Ends Well
O, sits high in all the people's hearts; and that which would appear offense in us, his countenance, like richest alchemy, will change to virtue and to worthiness.
Oh, what may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side!
Oftentimes, excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse; As patches, set upon a little breach, Discredit more in hiding of the fault, Than did the fault before it was so patched.
Jealousy |
Passion lends them power, time means to meet, tempering extremities with extremes sweet.
Nature |
O, what authority and show of truth Can cunning sin cover itself withal!
Our battle is more full of names than yours, Our men more perfect in the use of arms, Our armor all as strong, our cause is best, Then reason will our hearts should be as good.
Our wills and fates do so contrary run that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.