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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384754" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Vanity Fair</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Vanity Fair, as we bow and smile,<br>As we talk of the opera after the weather,<br>As we chat of fashion and fad and style,<br>We know we are playing a part together.<br>You know that the mirth she wears, she borrows;<br>She knows you laugh but to hide your sorrows;<br>We know that under the silks and laces,<br>And back of beautiful, beaming faces,<br>Lie secret trouble and grim despair,<br>In Vanity Fair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>In Vanity Fair, on dress parade,<br>Our colors look bright and our swords are gleaming;<br>But many a uniform's worn and frayed,<br>And most of the weapons, despite their seeming.<br>Are dull and blunted and badly battered,<br>And close inspection will show how tattered<br>And stained are the banners that float above us.<br>Our comrades hate, while they swear to love us;<br>And robed like Pleasure walks gaunt-eyed Care,<br>In Vanity Fair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>In Vanity Fair, as we strive for place,<br>As we rush and jostle and crowd and hurry,<br>We know the goal is not worth the race-<br>We know the prize is not worth the worry;<br>That all our gain means loss for another;<br>That in fighting for self we wound each other;<br>That the crown of success weighs hard and presse<br>The brow of the victor with thorns-not caresses;<br>That honors are empty and worthless to wear,<br>In Vanity Fair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>But in Vanity Fair, as we pass along,<br>We meet strong hearts that are worth the knowing;<br>'Mong poor paste jewels that deck the throng,<br>We see a solitaire sometimes glowing.<br>We find grand souls under robes of fashion,<br>'Neath light demeanors hide strength and passion;<br>And fair fine honor and Godlike resistance.<br>In halls of pleasure may have existence;<br>And we find pure altars and shrines of prayer,<br>In Vanity Fair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384754" data-title="Vanity Fair de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="In Vanity Fair, as we bow and smile,
As we talk of the opera after the weather,
As we chat of fashion and fad and style,
We know we are playing a part together.
You know that the mirth she wears, she borrows;
She knows you laugh but to hide your s..."></div>
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