In its conception the literature prize belongs to days when a writer could still be thought of as, by virtue of his or her occupation, a sage, someone with no institutional affiliations who could offer an authoritative word on our times as well as on our moral life.
quote by J.M. Coetzee
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
I thought at the time that I wanted to go into institutional sales, selling stocks and bonds to institutions. In those days, which was the 1960s, the institutional salesman was making about $100,000 a year. I thought that was just an enormous amount of money.
quote by Henry Kravis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You cannot have Liberty in this world without what you call Moral Virtue, and you cannot have Moral Virtue without the slavery of that half of the human race who hate what you call Moral Virtue.
quote by William Blake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Word That Wouldn’t Fit (Fun Poem 25)
A writer’s life is full of woe,
you find a word you like,
then you write something,
and try to fit that word in,
but when you look again.
That word you thought of
it just won’t fit in,
no matter how hard you try it,
that word just will not go.
In a fit of frustration,
you stick it here and there.
Just like jigsaw puzzle
where the pieces will not fit,
so this word will not go anywhere.
In the end you say, “OH heck! ”
Then you put the word
to the back of your mind.
Maybe another day
in another poem,
that word just might fit.
Having said all that,
I’m not betting on it.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I've always said is that I'm opposed to institutional racism, and I would've, had I've been alive at the time, I think, had the courage to march with Martin Luther King to overturn institutional racism, and I see no place in our society for institutional racism.
New Times
New times. new times. new times.
Good morning. good morning. good morning.
Im the guard. at one time
This was rather pleasant
The poets they still had to muse
Over the classicism of clean shoes
But who today still knows a button stick
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
The girls would lie down before us
First one went dancing, then behind the bushes
Today you have to run through twenty places
Get drunk on saccharin and methyl
And then you still dont get them that far
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
Now take it easy there in the early morning
Who arrives but the brethren from the press
If somewhere there lies a cadaver
Or something is foul in the state
You can be sure that a writer is not far behind
With his excellency I only say:
Hands off the literature
The laurel wreath one gets today
Second hand so to speak
>from the old empires stories
Sold underhand at the alexanderplatz
With all the wigs and costumes
Twitching from the shoulder one is informed
Well, thats the new times
Thats the new times
Thats the new times
New times. new times. new times.
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Mythology is the handmaid of literature; and literature is one of the best allies of virtue and promoters of happiness.
quote by Thomas Bulfinch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The worthless stuff
I work here in a Gas station
As a Sales Associate.
But collect the trash bags
from the bins too
A part of my job?
When I remove the heavy bags
The kind customers dump?
My innocent thoughts flew without wings
to my bygone golden school days!
I love that old man we call him 'Charlie uncle'
Who collects garbage and look after the ground.
O that attractive Teacher for Literature
who wears Indian Cashmere saris at all
and she got dimples on her both cheeks
when she smiles!
One day she questioned me; 'Nimal you want to be a writer
Lawyer or a Doctor? '
'Yes Teacher, I would like to be a writer
If not a Scavenger? ' I replied happily.
To that uncle charlie & the Literature teacher!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Thank You
I express my thanks to all,
Who offer their comments...
That are analytical,
With indepth perceptions.
As writers we all are 'connected' to what we create.
At times we assess with critique we feel is best,
To uncover 'identities' we believe, infact...
Are the writers' personalities.
And most times 'conceive'...
What we read leads us,
To the core of a writers' mentality.
I express my thanks to all,
Who offer their comments...
That are analytical,
With indepth perceptions.
And many times humorous,
That ushers the writer,
To incorporate and open...
Other selected directions.
I thank you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The institutional investor remains the bigger influence on individual trades simply because the institutional investor has more money to support the order and that will have more of an impact on the stock.
quote by Maria Bartiromo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Can See It
Ive been held up,
Ive been run down
I can see quite clearly now
Through those past years,
When I played towing the line.
I only ask, that what I feel,
Should not be denied me now,
As its been earned, and
I have seen my life belongs to me
My love belongs to who can see it
Ive lived in fear,
Ive been out there,
Ive been round and
Seen my share
Of this sad world
And all the hate,
That its stirred
I only ask,
That what I know,
Should not be denied me now
As its been learned,
And I have seen my life belongs to me
My love belongs to who can see it
I only ask, that what I feel,
Should not be denied me now
As its been earned, and
I have seen my life belongs to me
My love belongs to who can see it.
My love belongs to who . . .
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Think
what i think is what you get
this is all i have
a finger, a thought, a tongue
i can offer you a hand
if you want
if you stay, i can offer you greater
than all these
you may have my body
and if you care for me more than
enough
you can even have my soul
but if you are true more than enough
that you take time
burying me when i die
then i can give you
more than my soul and my body
but you may not like it
so i may ask: won't you take my poetry?
don't laugh, i am a serious writer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All literature consists of whatever the writer thinks is cool. The reader will like the book to the degree that he agrees with the writer about what's cool.
quote by Steven Brust
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The very essence of literature is the war between emotion and intellect, between life and death. When literature becomes too intellectual - when it begins to ignore the passions, the motions - it becomes sterile, silly, and actually without substance.
Isaac Bashevis Singer in New York Times Magazine (26 November 1978)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I discovered early in my movie work that a movie is never any better than the stupidest man connected with it. There are times when this distinction may be given to the writer or director. Most often it belongs to the producer.
The development of a political-economic framework to explore long-run institutional change occupied me during all of the 1980s and led to the publication of Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance in 1990.
quote by Douglass North
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Battling Days
So, sit you down in a straight-backed chair, with your pipe and your wife content,
And cross your knees with your wisest air, and preach of the ‘days mis-spent;’
Grown fat and moral apace, old man! you prate of the change ‘since then’—
In spite of all, I’d as lief be back in those hard old days again.
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel at times—but then,
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those hard old days again.
The land was barren to sow wild oats in the days when we sowed our own—
(’Twas little we thought or our friends believed that ours would ever be sown)
But the wild oats wave on their stormy path, and they speak of the hearts of men—
I would sow a crop if I had my time in those hard old days again.
We travel first, or we go saloon—on the planned-out trips we go,
With those who are neither rich nor poor, and we find that the life is slow;
It’s ‘a pleasant trip’ where they cried, ‘Good luck!’ There was fun in the steerage then—
In spite of all, I would fain be back in those vagabond days again.
On Saturday night we’ve a pound to spare—a pound for a trip down town—
We took more joy in those hard old days for a hardly spared half-crown;
We took more pride in the pants we patched than the suits we have had since then—
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those comical days again.
’Twas We and the World—and the rest go hang—as the Outside tracks we trod;
Each thought of himself as a man and mate, and not as a martyred god;
The world goes wrong when your heart is strong—and this is the way with men—
The world goes right when your liver is white, and you preach of the change ‘since then.’
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel times—but then,
In spite of all, we shall live to-night in those hard old days again.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grease
I saw my problems and Ill see the light
We got a lovin thing, we gotta feed it right
There aint no danger we can go too far
We start believin now that we can be who we are - grease is the word
They think our love is just a growin pain
Why dont they understand? its just a cryin shame
Their lips are lyin, only real is real
We stop the fight right now, we got to be what we feel - grease is the word
Chorus:
(grease is the word, is the word that you heard)
Its got a groove, its got a meaning
Grease is the time, is the place, is the motion
Grease is the way we are feeling
We take the pressure, and we throw away conventionality, belongs to yesterday
There is a chance that we can make it so far
We start believin now that we can be who we are - grease is the word
Chorus
This is a life of illusion, a life of control
Mixed with confusion - whatre we doin here?
We take the pressure, and we throw away conventionality, belongs to yesterday
There is a chance that we can make it so far
We start believin now that we can be who we are - grease is the word
Chorus repeats 2x
(grease is the word, is the word, is the word...)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Our Days Are Minutes...
At life’s butt end, I offer this, my sweet,
A long, slow burn to, at last, defeat;
A dreamtime reverie of old, gone ways
And sleepy wakings at the nub of days.
A light touch, drowsy, on your fading skin
To feed slow warmth at your cold come-in,
A languid stroking at your liquid stirrings
Before sleep deepens and reclaims two virgins.
More long silences than words between us
(Thoughts drip silver where a word breeds fever) ,
Painful pauses at a mind’s long ache
When a thought brings anger, or a word’s too late.
All this, woman, can I see before us,
Life’s long panic that will cut and draw us,
But still I’ll hold you at the long-loved hand
When our days are minutes, and our minutes sand.
22 December 1991
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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