Sir Toby Belch: She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me.
What o' that?
Sir Andrew: I was adored once too.
line from Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene 3 by William Shakespeare (1601)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Related quotes
Toby
There was once a boy called toby
'named Toby at his birth'
But after eating a potato that he hand reared from the earth
He doubted he was toby even toby from afar
And ridiculed he failed at school
After many a taunting hour of,
'Toby or not Toby? '
He learnt the soliloquy by heart
And having no answer to the question
Changed his name to 'Hamlet'
And became a 'movie star! '
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sir Toby Belch [To Fabian and Maria]: Go to, go to! Peace, peace. We must deal gently with him. Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is 't with you? What, man, defy the devil! Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
line from Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1601)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Everything is worth precisely as much as a belch, the difference being that a belch is more satisfying.
quote by Ingmar Bergman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toby
Hey, Toby, Toby, Toby!—Dead?
The silence is a flood
That closes, choking, overhead,
And chills the living blood.
The leaping friend, whose jolly bark
Was greeting every night,
No more to thrill the summer dark
With welcome of delight?
Beside his grave I bend the knee,
And O, my eyes are dim.
He hunted for the dog in me:
I found the man in him.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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Toby cat
Tobyis a cat he will sleep any ware even on a chair if he could in the air
Toby is not a rat he is cat who has a mate called pat
Who is like a bat but actually a cat named pat
Toby is a cat who sleeps on my head when in a bead im his ted
He likes to pick his chick (tick tick tick) gobble
He sleeps and creeps if he's sad he also weeps
He claws his paws
He likes tuna Hes just like a puma
Toby is a cat
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smiley
Caitlin Gerard, Melanie Papalia, Shane Dawson, Andrew James Allen, Roger Bart, Keith David, Toby Turner, Michael Traynor, Liza Weil
from Smiley (2012)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Andrew M’Crie
from the unpublished remains of Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a city by the sea,
That a man there lived whom I happened to know
By the name of Andrew M'Crie;
And this man he slept in another room,
But ground and had meals with me.
I was an ass and he was an ass,
In this city by the sea;
But we ground in a way which was more than a grind,
I and Andrew M'Crie;
In a way that the idle semis next door
Declared was shameful to see.
And this was the reason that, one dark night,
In this city by the sea,
A stone flew in at the window, hitting
The milk-jug and Andrew M'Crie.
And once some low-bred tertians came,
And bore him away from me,
And shoved him into a private house
Where the people were having tea.
Professors, not half so well up in their work,
Went envying him and me—
Yes!—that was the reason, I always thought
(And Andrew agreed with me),
Why they ploughed us both at the end of the year,
Chilling and killing poor Andrew M'Crie.
But his ghost is more terrible far than the ghosts
Of many more famous than he—
Of many more gory than he—
And neither visits to foreign coasts,
Nor tonics, can ever set free
Two well-known Profs from the haunting wraith
Of the injured Andrew M'Crie.
For at night, as they dream, they frequently scream,
'Have mercy, Mr. M'Crie!'
And at morn they will rise with bloodshot eyes,
And the very first thing they will see,
When they dare to descend to their coffee and rolls,
Sitting down by the scuttle, the scuttle of coals,
With a volume of notes on its knee,
Is the spectre of Andrew M'Crie.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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I Aint Got The Blues
Well, Im a little light-headed
But my body feels the same
And it feels like fallin on down
And find another name
But the sand in my shoes
May trickle to my brain
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame.
Well the sound of the drums
Is pounding in my head
Like ten thousand dancers
With bodies full of lead
And I feel like a bull
With an eye-full of red
Well, I aint got the blues
But something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred.
If tomorrow sees another
Kind of farm I know
Well, the people and the soldiers
And the gypsies groan
It would be like a wonder
And I cannot let it go
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow.
But the people in the cities
And the other ones too
Aint got too many wonders
That theyre not tied to
And I cant help but feeling
As Im wearing straight through
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more true
Oh yeah, something more true
Oh yeah, something more true.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alice Through the Looking Glass
Johnny Depp, Mia Wasikowska, Helena Bonham Carter, Anne Hathaway, Andrew Scott, Sacha Baron Cohen, Alan Rickman, Michael Sheen, Rhys Ifans, Ed Speleers, Timothy Spall, Stephen Fry, Toby Jones, Matt Lucas, Frances de la Tour
by Linda Woolverton from Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When It's Given
If you want it,
Take it.
But don't let it go.
When it's given,
Keep it.
And show it to grow.
And if you want it,
Take it.
But don't let it go.
Let it be known...
It is yours and adored.
Show it to be nourshed.
And yours to adore.
Flaunt it as it flourishes.
Knowing it is yours.
And if you want it,
Take it.
But don't let it go.
Let it be known...
It is yours and adored.
If you want it,
Take it.
But don't let it go.
When it's given,
Keep it.
And show it to grow.
You can share it if you wish,
But don't abandon it!
And if you want it,
Take it.
But don't let it go.
Let it be known...
It is yours and adored.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anna & Martin's wedding
Anna, Margarita,
Rights Defender
AI member
Palindrome
First job - aerodrome
Daughter and/or
Daughter in law
Legal eagle
Scent of a beagle
To many a friend
Her ear they bend
Churchgoer
Confirmed believer
Local Church
High Church
Father a Vicar
Very much thicker
Su madre como ella
Excelente cocinera
Teams with brother
Andrew Richard
standing as tall
as would be
his late older brother
Edward James
We miss him
But rejoice today
To have a new
Brother in Martin
Anna’s new husband
poem by James Hart
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I Wanna Be Adored
I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
I don't need to sell my soul
He's already in me
I wanna be adored
I wanna be adored
I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
I don't need to sell my soul
He's already in me
I wanna be adored
I wanna be adored
Adored
I wanna be adored
You adore me
You adore me
You adore me
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be adored
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be adored
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be adored
I wanna
I wanna
I gotta be adored
I wanna be adored
song performed by by The Stone Roses from The Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love – a paper deer
Love is admired
From prose and verses.
Love is adored
From sonnets and ballets
And is endeared
In arts, portraits and celluloid,
But if enacted
Off the stage, off the plays,
It is abhorred
By one and all, laden with jealousy.
So is love
To be versed, acted and not practiced.
So is love
To be read, beheld and not bred.
01.04.97
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The horns came riding in like the rainbow masts of silver ships.
quote by Peter S. Beagle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love stays true
Love stays true
like the compass to its core
and do not issue
any wavering, to the one that it adores
and without any alteration from its state
it is fixed, pointing to the limitless beyond
without having to wait
on what destiny demands and it ties with its own bond
in the spirit and soul of the human race,
it is much more than mentioned above
and its power supersedes time and space
or it does not function as love:
whatever challenges it face or anything that looms,
it is perfectly sincere and true past death, past doom.
[Reference: Sonnet 116 “Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ballade Of Queen Anne
The modish Airs,
The Tansey Brew,
The SWAINS and FAIRS
In curtained Pew;
Nymphs KNELLER drew,
Books BENTLEY read, -
Who knows them, who?
QUEEN ANNE is dead!
We buy her Chairs,
Her China blue,
Her red-brick Squares
We build anew;
But ah! we rue,
When all is said,
The tale o'er-true,
QUEEN ANNE is dead!
Now BULLS and BEARS,
A ruffling Crew,
With Stocks and Shares,
With Turk and Jew,
Go bubbling through
The Town ill-bred:
The World's askew,
QUEEN ANNE is dead!
ENVOY.
Friend, praise the new;
The old is fled:
Vivat FROU-FROU!
QUEEN ANNE is dead!
poem by Andrew Lang
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To Novella
An Epigram
You cry, She's bred in the Old Way;
Then into Laughter fall:
Were she as just to you, she'd say,
You are not bred at all.
poem by Mary Barber
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If the misery of our poor be caused not by the laws of nature, but by our institutions, great is our sin.
Charles Darwin in Voyage of the Beagle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing For The New Born
You're my life's treasure this day
So will ever be you all days
Like the fencing wind soothing
Saving all lives abound
Livening all lives so lovable..
May my hope come true
May my hope come true
You're my life's pleasure this day
So will ever be you all days
Like a blooming flower fragrant
Turning to a fruit yummy
Lovable much to all and whole..
May my hope come true
May my hope come true
You're my life's favour this day
So will ever be you all days
Like the new rains heavenly
Freshening the loam so lush
Lovely with lavish love adored..
May my hope come true
May my hope come true
You're my life's healer this day
So will ever be you all days
Like the handy salve treating
Healing the wounded well cured
Sought after much with needs..
May my hope come true
May my hope come true
You're my life's salvor this day
So will ever be you all days
Like a magician godly in a wink
Weeding the wild from peace field
Lovingly loving the whole world..
May my hope come true
May my hope come true
For The Forthcoming New Year-
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Women Love Him
Women love my dad
even at 86
he still glides through life
breaking all the rules.
He still drinks too much
laughs all the time
calls all the women 'baby-fox'
and they love him for it.
Won't live with the kids
wants to play the field
with the sixty year olds
in the nursing home;
has women of all ages
whom he adores
and they adore him back.
Still does forty one-handed push-ups each day
and lives in a city where it gets 10 below
and he sits inside and paints pictures of Spring.
I still look at a picture of him at the beach
at 23 in a blue speedo
'baby foxes' all around.
He never grew up
and I glad he didn't.
Used to say to my mother:
'I am sick and tired of being right all the time.'
And she would say
'Don't worry dear I am here to help.'
She adored him too.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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