If an army of monkeys were strumming on typewriters, they might write all the books in the British Museum.
quote by Arthur Eddington
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
When I die there may be a paragraph or two in the newspapers. My name will linger in the British Museum Reading Room catalogue for a space at the head of a long list of books for which no one will ever ask.
quote by C.S. Forester
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There's a statistical theory that if you gave a million monkeys typewriters and set them to work, they'd eventually come up with the complete works of Shakespeare. Thanks to the Internet, we now know this isn't true.
We went to the British Museum, and I was looking up my family in the books - pages and pages on it.
quote by Nicholas Lea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
More Fun Than A Barrel Of Monkeys
there are multiple questions pertaining to the concept,
'more fun than a barrel of monkeys.'
how big is the barrel?
how many monkeys are we talking about?
how big are the monkeys? Are we talking spider monkeys, chimps, baboons or what?
Are the monkeys old or young and where's the barrel, inside or outside?
If you leave the monkeys in the barrel, you got a problem:
they'll die in their own excrement,
if you lift the lid and let them out,
they might kill you.
a monkey can rip out your eyes, is that fun?
monkeys, leaping and running around the house, can do a lot of damage, is that fun?
monkeys are dirty, so... what exactly do you consider fun?
what's it going to be like trying to get the monkeys back in the barrel?
would that be fun?
what would the neighbors think of you, if you released the monkeys into their yards?
what happens if the police gets involved?
it could mean everything imaginable is more fun than a barrel of these animals.
maybe even more fun than a barrel of human beings.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Come to think of it, there are already a million monkeys on a million typewriters, and the Usenet is NOTHING like Shakespeare
quote by Blair Houghton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If you put a billion monkeys in front of a billion typewriters typing at random, they would reproduce the entire collected works of Usenet in about ... five minutes.
Keep On Strumming The Guitar Strings
my dear
keep on strumming the guitar strings
on this lonely night
where are the stars
are dead and gone
keep on strumming and let me simply
hum a tune for you
keep on strumming until your fingers
bleed until i stop singing until
the two of us become one
breathing soul
in our chosen spot
of silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Monkeys Must Know What's Good For Them
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
Stripping exotic trees,
Of fruit they leave.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And,
We...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys must know what's good for them.
But we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Screenplays I didn't really care about, journalism, travel books, getting my writer friends to write about their dreams or something. I just determined to write the books I had to write.
quote by Kazuo Ishiguro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I don't write down my experiences, but I have a very decent memory. I have tons of books in which I write down phrases as they occur to me. That's how I write songs. I'll need a line and I'll go through the books and find it, the right rhyme and everything.
quote by Evan Dando
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
If people don't like Marxism, they should blame the British Museum.
quote by Mikhail Gorbachev
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Obituary:
Alphabetical order
British Museum.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 January 1993)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Smartest Monkeys
Well man created the cardboard box to sleep in it
And man converted the newspaper to a blanket
Well you have to admit that hes come a long way
Since swinging about in the trees
Were the smartest monkeys
The smartest monkeys
The evidence is all around
Our brains are bigger
This weve found
The smartest monkeys
Well man discovered the park bench can make a transition
And the rubbish tip makes a valid form of nutrition
With discoveries like these
Civilisation agrees
To give itself a pat on the back
Were the smartest monkeys
The evolutions plain to see
Were the dominant of the species
The smartest monkeys
We brought the caveman from the stoneage
To the subways of the modern world
How they pack so many in
Quick call the guinness book of records
Well you have to admit...
Were the smartest monkeys...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Summer Stars
Bend low again, night of summer stars.
So near you are, sky of summer stars,
So near, a long-arm man can pick off stars,
Pick off what he wants in the sky bowl,
So near you are, summer stars,
So near, strumming, strumming,
So lazy and hum-strumming.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Of all the ways of acquiring books, writing them oneself is regarded as the most praiseworthy method. Writers are really people who write books not because they are poor, but because they are dissatisfied with the books which they could buy but do not like.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ivory Tower
A Goddess rests with her harp.
The distance music and I hear her strumming.
Yet I am for a long way and stagnant.
I feel the time is walking and somebody is waving.
Days, Months and Years passed.
Hero is old, broken heart and hard of hearing.
But still she is strumming and never gets old.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pagani’s, November 8
Suddenly discovering in the eyes of the very beautiful
Normande cocotte
The eyes of the very learned British Museum assistant.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I think the reason working-class people don't write books is because they are encouraged to believe that only certain people are permitted to write books.
quote by Len Deighton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)
I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grafted Into the Army
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
I told them the child was too young, alas!
At the captains forequarters, they said he would pass,
they'd train him up well in the Infantry class,
so they grafted him into the Army.
Oh, Jimmy, farewell! Your brothers fell way down in Alabammy;
I though they would spare a lone widder's heir,
but they grafted him into the Army.
Dressed up in his unicorn, dear little chap,
they have grafted him into the Army;
it seems but a day since he sot in my lap,
but they grafted him into the Army.
And these are the trousies he used to wear,
them very same buttons, the patch and the tear;
but Uncle Sam gave him a bran' new pair
when they grafted him into the Army.
Now in my provisions I see him revealed,
they have grafted him into the Army;
a picket beside the contented field,
they have grafted him into the Army.
He looks kinder sickish -- begins to cry,
a big volunteer standing right in his eye!
Oh, what if the ducky should up and die,
now they've grafted him into the Army.
poem by Henry Clay Work
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!