War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, the lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade.
quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Beggar's Opera (excerpts)
Air I.An old woman clothed in gray, &c.1-
Through all the employments of life
-
Each neighbour abuses his brother;
-
Whore and rogue they call husband and wife:
-
All professions be-rogue one another.
-
The priest calls the lawyer a cheat,
-
The lawyer be-knaves the divine;
-
And the statesman, because he's so great,
-
Thinks his trade as honest as mine.Air XI.A Soldier and a Sailor2-
A fox may steal your hens, sir,
-
A whore your health and pence, sir,
-
Your daughter rob your chest, sir,
-
Your wife may steal your rest, sir,
-
A thief your goods and plate.
-
But this is all but picking,
-
With rest, pence, chest and chicken;
-
It ever was decreed, sir,
-
If lawyer's hand is fee'd, sir,
-
He steals your whole estate.Air XXII.Cotillon3-
Youth's the season made for joys,
-
Love is then our duty,
-
She alone who that employs,
-
Well deserves her beauty.
-
Let's be gay,
-
While we may,
-
Beauty's a flower, despised in decay.CHORUS.3-
Youth's the season, &c.Cotillon3-
Let us drink and sport to-day,
-
Ours is not to-morrow.
-
Love with youth flies swift away,
-
Age is nought but sorrow.
-
Dance and sing,
-
Time's on the wing,
-
Life never knows the return of spring.CHORUS.3-
Let us drink, &c.Air XXVI.4-
Courtiers, Courtiers think it no harm, &c.4-
Man may escape from rope and gun;
-
Nay, some have out-liv'd the doctor's pill;
-
Who takes a woman must be undone,
-
That basilisk is sure to kill.
-
The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets,
-
So he that tastes woman, woman, woman,
-
He that tastes woman, ruin meets.
The Tourist from Syracuse
One of those men who can be a car salesman or a tourist from Syracuse or a hired assassin.
-- John D. MacDonald
You would not recognize me.
Mine is the face which blooms in
The dank mirrors of washrooms
As you grope for the light switch.
My eyes have the expression
Of the cold eyes of statues
Watching their pigeons return
From the feed you have scattered,
And I stand on my corner
With the same marble patience.
If I move at all, it is
At the same pace precisely
As the shade of the awning
Under which I stand waiting
And with whose blackness it seems
I am already blended.
I speak seldom, and always
In a murmur as quiet
As that of crowds which surround
The victims of accidents.
Shall I confess who I am?
My name is all names, or none.
I am the used-car salesman,
The tourist from Syracuse,
The hired assassin, waiting.
I will stand here forever
Like one who has missed his bus --
Familiar, anonymous --
On my usual corner,
The corner at which you turn
To approach that place where now
You must not hope to arrive.
poem by Donald Justice
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I, Assassin
We are assassins
We are not evil
We act with reason and heart
Your heart
We are not vicious
Is that surprising?
Were so much larger than life
I, assassin, I am
I, assassin, I am
I just arrived
Something to fix
This new depression
We are not hunters
We are just patient
Well wait a lifetime for you
Just you
Ive never felt good
Ive never felt bad
Ive never felt much at all
I, assassin, I am
I, assassin, I am
Theres nothing personal
Just read the papers
Thats real
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Assassin
Track 1 of _Fugazi_ ---
I am the assassin, with tongue forged from eloquence.
I am the assassin, providing your nemesis.
On the sacraficial altar to success, my friend;
Unleash a stranger from a kiss, my friend;
No incantations of remorse, my friend;
Unsheath the blade within the voice,
my friend, my friend, my friend, my friend
I am the assassin, (assassin, assassin)
Who decorates the scarf with the fugi knot,
Who camouflaged emotion in the thousand-yard stare,
Who gouged the notches in the family tree,
Who hypnotized the guilt in career rhythm trance.
Assassin, assassin, assassin, assassin.
(Assassin , my friend.)
Listen as the syllables of slaughter cut with calm precision,
Patterned frosty phrases rape your ears and sew the ice incision.
Adjectives of annihilation bury the point beyond redemption,
Venomous verbs of ruthless candor plagiarize assassins' fervor.
Apocalyptic alphabet casting spell, the creed of tempered diction,
my friend, your friend, the assassin.
my friend, your friend, the assassin.
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin.)
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin.)
Let bitter silence infect the wound,
Let bitter silence infect the wound,
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
Assassin!
You were a sentimental mercenary in a free-fire zone,
Parading a Hollywood conscience;
You were a fashionable objector with a uniform fetish,
Pavlovian slaver at the cash till ring of success.
A noncom observer, I assassin, the collector... defector.
So you resigned yourself to failure, my friend,
And I emerged the chilling stranger, my friend,
To eradicate the problem, my friend,
Unsheath the blade within the voice,
within the voice, within the voice,
within the voice.
And what do you call assassins who accuse assassins, anyway...
My friend
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Final Tax
Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
'What can we tax that is not paying?
We’re taxing every blessed thing—
Here’s what our people are defraying:
'Tariff tax, income tax,
Tax on retail sales,
Club tax, school tax,
Tax on beers and ales,
'City tax, county tax,
Tax on obligations,
War tax. wine tax,
Tax on corporations,
'Brewer tax, sewer tax,
Tax on motor cars,
Bond tax, stock tax,
Tax on liquor bars,
'Bridge tax, check tax,
Tax on drugs and pills,
Gas tax, ticket tax,
Tax on gifts in wills,
'Poll tax, dog tax,
Tax on money loaned,
State tax, road tax,
Tax on all things owned,
'Stamp tax, land tax,
Tax on wedding ring,
High tax, low tax,
Tax on everything!'
Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
'That is the list, a pretty bevy;
No thing or act that is untaxed;
There’s nothing more on which to levy.'
Said Statesman Z to Statesman A:
'The deficit each moment waxes;
This is no time for us to fail—
We will decree a tax on taxes.'
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Brave Coward
Elisabeth imagines I've
A yellow streak
She deems I have no dash and drive,
Jest dogoned weak.
'A man should be a man,' says Liz
'Trade blow for blow.'
Poor kid! What my position is
She jest don't know.
She jest don't know my old man killed,
Yea, slew and slew.
As steamy blood he sweetly spilled,
So could I too.
And though no wrath of heart I show
When I see red,
I fear no S. O. B. but oh
Myself I dread.
Though fellers reckon me a dope
And trigger-shy,
'Tain't nice to dangle on a rope,
And like Pa die.
So as I belly to the bar
Meek is my breath . . .
No guts! --Don't needle me too far,
Elizabeth!
poem by Robert William Service
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Tradewinds
(macdonald / salter)
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Unhappy faces behind a painted smile
Heartache and loneliness dressed up in modern style
Unhappy people living in sin and shame
Reflections of myself, life is no easy game
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Here I stand looking, looking around me
While all around me what do I see
Young girls wholl soon become
Streetwalkers in the night
Young boys, the restless breed
Looking for a fight
Children both rich and poor
Theyre searching for the truth
If they dont find it
God help tomorrows youth
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Trade winds are blowing, blowing around me
While all around me what do I see
Hatred and jealousy
Brotherhood is dying
Love is the answer
But nobodys buying
Good people turning bad
Some dont but they are few
The winds are blowing
The choice is all up to you
Were caught in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
Yes were caught up in the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
We are riding on the trade winds
The trade winds of our time
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of course, some would say if you have a performing inclination, then you should become a lawyer. That's a platform we use, or a priest. You know, anywhere you lecture and pontificate to people.
quote by Rowan Atkinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The priest's friend loses his faith, the doctor's his health, and the lawyer's his fortune.
Killing The Thing That You Love
Brick by brick you built a mansion
Piece by piece it seems
Youre tearing it down
Once you walked so tall and handsome
Now nobody even wants you around
Now youre just some kind of
Leftover clown
Now youre like Quasi Modo crying
As you look in the mirror
At what youve become
Killing the thing that you love
Like Lennons assassin
Lennons assassin
Reaching for Venus De Milo
But shes never gonna hold you tight
You plant plutonium silos
Then you blister from the sun thats too bright
Like a vampire stepping into the light
Just a victim of your own greed as you
Look in the mirror
At what youve become
Killing the world that you love
Like Lennons assassin
Lennons assassin
The genius of a generation
Blown away just like a leaf on the wind
And now youre looking for salvation
But you cant forget the places youve been
And you cant erase a lifetime of sin
And you cant escape the answers as you
Look in the mirror
At what youve become
Dredging the river for what you have done
Killing the thing that you love
Like Lennons assassin
Lennons assassin
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A statesman wants courage and a statesman wants vision; but believe me, after six months' experience, he wants first, second, third and all the time - patience.
quote by Stanley Baldwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Assassin, the Artist, and the Dog
Walking across this dangerous land
In this magical but corrupted world
The assassin, the artist, and the dog travel
This world is unbalanced
It surely is a world in ruin
The assassin, the artist, and the dog travel
And they know
That to survive
They must fight
Whether they like it or not
The assassin has his dangerous swords
and sharpened throwing tools
The artist has her enchanted paintbrushes
and magical paints
The dog has his bark and bite
And that's good enough for him
Everything else is perfect for the rest of them
During the day
During the night
As they travel along
It's a world on the brink of madness
But the assassin, the artist, and the dog know
of that
They know of the choices and chances they'll
have to make and take
It's tough out there to survive
But they know what it will take
They know what the world is like
They know how the world is
poem by Justin Gildow
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To delight in war is a merit in the soldier, a dangerous quality in the captain, and a positive crime in the statesman.
quote by George Santayana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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California Sex Lawyer
I'm going coast to coast
I'm going nation-wide
I've got my hand on the trigger
Got my girl by my side
I've got the looks that kill
I've got a license to love
I've got a german shepard
And his name is Doug
I'm heading for the sun
I'm gunna become
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
Well it's not fair, but baby I dont care
I've got big ideas
I've got back up plans
I've got the cha-cha-charisma
Got the slight of hand
I'm gunna do some damage
Gunna bust some heads
I'm gunna go the distance
Then I'm going to bed
I'm heading for the sun
I'm gunna become
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
Well it's not fair, but baby I dont care
I'm heading for the sun
I'm gunna become
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
A California sex lawyer, oh yeah
Well It's not fair
It's not fair
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A priest sees people at their best, a lawyer at their worst, but a doctor sees them as they really are.
The Dirty Boy (and what befell him) II
'Spitting is dirty and crass', said Mim,
and isn't very nice
and by the statutes of this state
it constitutes a vise.
'So grow up, Jack', said little Mim
'So Jack', said John, 'get big'
But all that Jack would mutter back
was 'better pig than prig'.
'So here's to you, mate', shot back Jack
and here's to you-take that! '
and to the horror of them both
forthwith hauled off and spat!
Such the scope and depth and pitch
and tempo of infraction
that they hired a lawyer, (greedy witch)
and filed a class action.
The justice heard the case with awe
the jury with dismay-
in chorus near unanimous
they put the boy away.
Jack did no time, he paid a fine
(his too a canny lawyer-
but waiting, found, when he got home
a hiding from his father.
'Fair is fair', said little Mim,
'And fine is fine', said John
'and if you spit we should be pleased
to do the same again.'
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Delight
Anytime that you fall asleep
I'm wide awake
Anytime that you leave your house
I'm waiting at the gate
I'm not angry anymore
Come on and show your soul
I'd love to hang it on the wall
Framed for me
Anytime that you smile
I know that's really you
Anytime that you laugh you know that
I'll be laughing too
But it's not funny anymore
Come on now where's your soul
Is that it crumpled on the floor
Is this blame on me
Delight Delight Delight Delight
Delight at least we know its name
Delight Delight Delight
Wouldn't it be nice to feel again
Delight Delight Delight
It's locked outside it won't be coming in
Anytime now you'll talk at least I hope you will
Anytime now you'll speak and you know
I'll be listening still
But we don't say much anymore
Come on tell it from your soul
Delight Delight Delight Delight
Delight at least we know its name
Delight Delight Delight
Wouldn't it be nice to feel again
Delight Delight Delight
It's locked outside it won't be coming in
Won't be coming in
Delight Delight
song performed by by Bic Runga from Drive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nelson Mandela is, for me, the single statesman in the world. The single statesman, in that literal sense, who is not solving all his problems with guns. It's truly unbelievable.
quote by Toni Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear, Dare A Red Read - Polyacrostic
Jingle verse enjoy. In reversed jest
our game is hid - no orchestra in song, -
no signature, as no fit, link, strung strong
and taut traced are, for few see game addressed.
The care of each theme's wording to the test
here is pulled sharper. Read each line. Along
a web admired, placed true, is set among
new net mix dear. Note our name as none guessed.
Reach soul. Oh dare to free the thread expressed!
Over all sweet sound ends work to link, belong, -
bestirring can be. If thought inbinding's wrong
its warp reread in fairness, shriven guest!
Nut/kernel plan none smirk at, sense contest.
Judge, smile, and joy glean from a jest red blessed.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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