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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508594" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Quatrains</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar,<br>To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star;<br> It lies with thee -- the choice is thine, is thine,<br>To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I answered Her: The choice is mine -- ah, no!<br>We all were made or marred long, long ago.<br> The parts are written; hear the super wail:<br>&quot;Who is stage-managing this cosmic show?&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blind fools of fate and slaves of circumstance,<br>Life is a fiddler, and we all must dance.<br> From gloom where mocks that will-o'-wisp, Free-will<br>I heard a voice cry: &quot;Say, give us a chance.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Chance! Oh, there is no chance! The scene is set.<br>Up with the curtain! Man, the marionette,<br> Resumes his part. The gods will work the wires.<br>They've got it all down fine, you bet, you bet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's all decreed -- the mighty earthquake crash,<br>The countless constellations' wheel and flash;<br> The rise and fall of empires, war's red tide;<br>The composition of your dinner hash.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's no haphazard in this world of ours.<br>Cause and effect are grim, relentless powers.<br> They rule the world. (A king was shot last night;<br>Last night I held the joker and both bowers.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From out the mesh of fate our heads we thrust.<br>We can't do what we would, but what we must.<br> Heredity has got us in a cinch --<br>(Consoling thought when you've been on a &quot;bust&quot;.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hark to the song where spheral voices blend:<br>&quot;There's no beginning, never will be end.&quot;<br> It makes us nutty; hang the astral chimes!<br>The tables spread; come, let us dine, my friend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</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=508594" data-title="Quatrains de Robert William Service" data-description="One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar,
To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star;
 It lies with thee -- the choice is thine, is thine,
To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car.

I answered Her: The choice is mine -- ah, no!
We all were made or marre..."></div>
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