Related quotes: I never lecture, not because...

I never lecture, not because I am shy or a bad speaker, but simply because I detest the sort of people who go to lectures and don't want to meet them.

quote by H.L. Mencken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

This is unusual for me. I have given readings and not lectures. I have told people who ask for lectures that I have no lecture to give. And that is true.

quote by V.S. Naipaul
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most people tire of a lecture in 10 minutes clever people can do it in 5. Sensible people never go to lectures at all.

quote by Stephen Butler Leacock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Detest

People ask me
Why do I
Detest him
So much?

Let me
Put it very
Simply:

All the world's
My friend.
I can afford to have
One enemy ;)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Election Aftermath

1. ANTE-ELECTIONS
Now, a cove the name of Blabb, a politician,
He's a haughty sort o' high pan-jan-dee-ram;
An' he holds a very dignified position
As the member for the districk where I am.
There is times he seems to faintly reckernise me
Jist a flutter of his flipper when we meet;
Yet, other times, his actions fair surprise me,
When with a very icy eye he eyes me,
Jist as if he never knoo me in the street.
But who am I to seek his hand to grab?
So I simply sez, 'Good mornin', Mr Blabb.'
An' passes on.
'An' I hopes you're doin' nicely, Mr Blabb.'

2. ELECTIONS

Now, a cove the name of Blabb, a politician,
Is a pal o' mine, an' most perlite, at that.
He's a candidate again for th eposition
As a member for the districk where I'm at.
He will grab me hand an' pump it when I meet him,
An' he pats me on the back an' calls me Joe
Seems sort of anxious-like for me to grete him
An' as a fond an' faithful friend to treat him.
He's the nicest sort o' neighbour you could know,
But who am I to listen to his gab?
So I simply sez, 'I'll think it over, Blabb,'
An' passes on.
'I'll see wot I can do about it, Blabb.'

3. POST-ELECTIONS

Now, a coot the name of Blabb, a politician,
He's a Public Figger, an' a Man of note;
For he recently rewon the high position
As the member of the districk where I vote.
An', altho' we come to be close cobbers lately,
Monday last he hardly knoo me when I spoke;
An' he didn't sort o' seem to want to, greatly;
But he rose his hand an' nodded most sedately,
He's an awful, absent-minded sort o' bloke.
But who am I, whose ways is drear an' drab?
So I simply sez, 'Good evenin', Mr Blabb,'
An' passes on.
'An' I hopes you ain't forgot me, Mr Blabb.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Paper Men To Air Hopes And Fears

The first speaker said
Fear fire. Fear furnaces
Incinerators, the city dump
The faint scratch of a match.

The second speaker said
Fear water. Fear drenching rain
Drizzle, oceans, puddles, a damp
Day and the flush toilet.

The third speaker said
Fear wind. And it needn't be
A hurricane. Drafts, open
Windows, electric fans.

The fourth speaker said
Fear knives. Fear any sharp
Thing, machine, shears
Scissors, lawnmowers.

The fifth speaker said
Hope. Hope for the best
A smooth folder in a steel file.

poem by Robert Francis
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Something about my 9th Class Teachers

I had a moral teacher, (Mrs.Shocken)
Who is nothing less than a preacher,
She is always in sparkling white,
Her lectures are also upright; She Is my Best Teacher

I had a teacher in science (Mrs.Asha Doda)
I had always pray for his absence,
As we all are tense,
During his class of no sense.

I Had a maths teacher, (Mr. Krishan Jangra)
Who is a like bully bear,
His tantrums I don't care,
I will never respect him
Not at all...
I think that he has no knowledge about his subject,
that's why i also prefer that period to reject.

Mr.Arun was teaching us history,
He was always in a mystery,
About Him i have nothing to say,
bcz i never notices them
as he was always bzy in Teaching and Cracking Jokes..

I Had a teacher in English, (Mrs. Rama)
She hates us for being childish,
She always behaves bullish,
When home work we don't finish;
She always calls me Bigda hua Bacha
She gives lecture but no one hears.

Mrs.Madan teaching us drawing,
where most of the boys had not created their drawing files...
She is very small in sizeand look like a don(when she wears Black sun glasses)
that' why all call her Chota Don
She is always bzy in giving lectures
about life but no one hears as no one cares....

poem by Puneet Mehta
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Professors simply can't discuss a thing. Habit compels them to deliver a lecture.

quote by Hal Boyle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When We Are Far Away

when we are far away from each other
at continent's length
we want to reach each other's arms and
when we cannot we always have someone
some other cause to blame
like the zodiac, or the alignment of the stars
and the planets, or the society or even
the structures like some falling pillars
and blasted walls

but in truth when we meet and become
so near like a dinner for two
or a dance where our cheeks lean over
each other we soon realize this feeling of

i detest you and you detest me
we soon realize, that this feeling of indifference
has stayed within our hearts

for truly we have identified with the world in pain
and to take revenge for a sickness without cure

we pretend we are humans missing another likeness.
it happens, right there where we exchanged words
we must accept, another relationship has ended
and we in fact, really do not care less.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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397

but in truth when we meet and become
so near like a dinner for two
or a dance where our cheeks lean over
each other we soon realize this feeling of

i detest you and you detest me
we soon realize, that this feeling of indifference
has stayed within our hearts

for truly we have identified with the world in pain
and to take revenge for a sickness without cure

we pretend we are humans missing another likeness.
it happens, right there where we exchanged words
we must accept, another relationship has ended
and we in fact, really do not care less.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Have No Morals

The preachers of hate claim they hate the west,
While on their moral throne they sit,
Yet they'll take our money when put to the test,
Their ideals are straight from a pit.

If they really hate us why do they stay,
Don't you find it sickeningly funny,
They abuse our system then cause us affray,
But love taking our hard earned money.

Hypocrisy in terrorists will forever remain,
They are cowards every one,
Like their masters they're completely insane,
As for principles truth is they have none.

They have no scruples or moral code,
Their cowardice is for all to see,
Bravery to them is too heavy a load,
They wouldn't know the meaning of free.

To murder innocents is a total disgrace,
It's a cowardly and heinous act,
When you meet your maker he will say to your face,
Hell's where you're heading that's a fact.

The people you claim to represent,
Are very few and far between,
Decent people think you're ideals are bent,
With terrorist scum they wouldn't be seen.

If you truly detest the way we are,
Your choice is crystal clear,
Leave our country and travel afar,
But that thought just fills you with fear.

If you detest us as people the way you claim,
Return to the country you adore,
We will never allow you to achieve your aim,
Your ideals are rotten to the core.

You insult our freedom and our way of life,
Go elsewhere to have your quarrels,
The fact you can take from the people you hate,
Proves to us,

‘' You Have No Morals ‘'

poem by Bri Mar
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We and They

Father and Mother, and Me,
Sister and Auntie say
All the people like us are We,
And every one else is They.
And They live over the sea,
While We live over the way,
But-would you believe it? --They look upon We
As only a sort of They!

We eat pork and beef
With cow-horn-handled knives.
They who gobble Their rice off a leaf,
Are horrified out of Their lives;
While they who live up a tree,
And feast on grubs and clay,
(Isn't it scandalous? ) look upon We
As a simply disgusting They!

We shoot birds with a gun.
They stick lions with spears.
Their full-dress is un-.
We dress up to Our ears.
They like Their friends for tea.
We like Our friends to stay;
And, after all that, They look upon We
As an utterly ignorant They!

We eat kitcheny food.
We have doors that latch.
They drink milk or blood,
Under an open thatch.
We have Doctors to fee.
They have Wizards to pay.
And (impudent heathen!) They look upon We
As a quite impossible They!

All good people agree,
And all good people say,
All nice people, like Us, are We
And every one else is They:
But if you cross over the sea,
Instead of over the way,
You may end by (think of it!) looking on We
As only a sort of They!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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My intention to lecture is as vague as my intention is to go on the stage. I will never consider an offer to lecture, not because I despise the vocation, but because I have no desire to appear on the public rostrum.

quote by Mary MacLane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Speaker

Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Speaker Gets The Word

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The life or death question

You could guess from the crowd
converging on the Memorial Hall
and on a Saturday night, that
the speaker must be world-famed in his field,
making his first visit to the college.

A French scientist of renown –
cognitive theory or some such –
turned Buddhist monk these thirty, forty years,
he carried the blessing and the curse,
the burden of responsibility not only of his vocation
but his fame. The hall was packed.

Serene – ‘together’ has to be the word –
he spoke for an hour; enthusiastic applause;
then question time.

There’s always that tense silence before
the first question…how will
the hall respond tonight? Will it hold the level
of the speaker’s mind? …we knew all too well
those ‘first question’ students – the one
who had to wrap a compliment in
confectioner’s sugar, eliciting an inward groan –
as if the speaker were unaware of his own ability...
she’d marry rich, then live a life of patronising
complacency bestowing well-publicised charity…

or the one whose ‘clever’ question blatantly advertised
to whoever might be impressed, beyond herself,
that she was already on the speaker’s wavelength
before the lecture and before the rest of us…
she’d commit herself to a future academic life
of maintaining this self-superiority,
exhausting herself, losing friends and influencing few…

but no – tonight it was that wild and self-abusive student
who seldom attended any lecture except to challenge –
‘Can you give me one single reason
why I should go on living? ’..

You could have heard a cliché drop..
a pin; a paperclip; but loud, the universal thought –
how could the speaker know, this was the brilliant boy
of already three serious suicide attempts…
representative of the rite of passage greatly magnified,
sex, drugs, rocknroll, and whatever lay beyond…

‘No… I cannot…’

This was the boy we detested, despaired of, tried to befriend,
hated for his disruption, but almost feared,
feared for the wild openness of his mind…
the hall united in hushed, waiting silence…

‘… for you have given yourself the reason –
you have asked the question few of us
have dared to ask… and a question
sincerely asked, brings its answer with it…

‘..when you hear the answer that your question
holds in its heart, like some golden lotus,
you will have the answers to all questions,
and you will be a wiser, happier man than me…’

only Buddhists and their like can smile
with such detached serenity; with
a space that’s full of meaning. The hall
broke into the laughter of relief; great laughter;
the unqualified love of five hundred students
poured like a mighty river on that boy

who was still standing, wild-haired –
and I saw that he was laughing too
and through my mind flashed the thought,
the air is full of angels..

where had those angels who laughed
so lightly with us, where had those angels been,
before; and would go, after?
The boy, still laughing as he left.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Social Illiterates

Why are the people angry?

'Comments made to them,
Were upsetting when expressed.'

But...
Were they true?
And from who?

'All of it was true.
And everyone listening knew it too.
Those who stayed after the booing died down.
And paid attention with a listening done.'

Then...
What is the problem?

'The speaker who spoke,
Came dressed to impress.
And no one expected,
Their delusions to become affected...
By such an effectiveness as to them addressed.'

So what did the speaker say?

'He kept calling them social illiterates.
And many of them began to leave,
Saying...
No one is going to tell them,
They are 'dumb' and do not know how to read.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cynicism Is an Art

Come you little children- people
Children-people of the future
For soon you will be people-people
What sort of people-people will you be?
It doesn't really matter, really, because
Soon you won't be people-people
Soon you will be dead-people
Dead-people of so long ago
What sort of dead-people will you be?

poem by Bobby Crawford
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Truth, Goodness And Integrity

THE BEARER OF TRUTH COURTS TROUBLE IN THE WORLD OF LIARS,
THE BEARER OF LIES COURTS TROUBLE IN THE WORLD OF THE TRUTHFULL,
WHY DOST MY WORLD DETEST TRUTH?
WHY DOST MY LAND DETEST GOODNESS?
YES, EVEN MINE HOUSE DETESTS INTEGRITY,
THUS I AM BECOME UNWELCOME IN MINE WORLD,
LO AND BEHOLD, I AM NOW BECOME AN ABOMINATION IN MY LAND,
YES, I AM NOW BECOME DETESTED IN MY OWN HOUSE,
YES, I AM BECOME THAT WHICH THEY DETEST,
I AM BECOME TRUTHFULL,
I AM BECOME GOOD,
YES, I NOW GLOW WITH INTEGRITY,
YES INDEED, I AM TRUELY BECOME THAT WHICH THEY DETEST,
GOODNESS, TRUTHFULL, AND FILLED OF INTEGRITY!

poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Prepared To Deliver And Teach

Speeches, sermons, lectures...
Are prepared to deliver and teach.
However...
If they are delivered too seriously,
Without a bit of comedy...
Those giving those speeches,
Sermons and lectures...
To teach with an outreach to people,
Will find most of them asleep.
Disturbed from a droning boredom,
Only to awaken to applaud...
Begun by those relieved with sighs,
That whatever was heard...
With the giving of a patience,
Is over!

'You were wonderful.
I sat through it with my eyes closed.
Absorbing in meditation...
Every meaning of your intention.
To allow the depths of your words to sink in.
But I must ask you this...
Do you mind explaining parts of it I miss? '

~No!
Not at all.
Which parts were those? ~

'The beginning? '

~Yes.~

'And...
The end.'

~Okay? ~

'Do you mind repeating,
What was said in between them? '