Our Quakers love us. we're big with the Quakers. It's all about cleanliness.

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I literally fell among Quakers when I went up to Oxford.

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Quakers almost as good as colored. They call themselves friends and you can trust them every time.

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Should slavery be abolished there, (and it is an event, which, from these circumstances, we may reasonably expect to be produced in time) let it be remembered, that the Quakers will have had the merit of its abolition.

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Look at the Quakers - they were excellent business people that never lied, never stole; they cared for their employees and the community which gave them the wealth. They never took more money out than they put back in.

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Ezra Pound

If I could believe the Quakers banned music because church music is so damn bad, I should view them with approval.

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I am still looking for the modern equivalent of those Quakers who ran successful businesses, made money because they offered honest products and treated their people decently... This business creed, sadly, seems long forgotten.

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Cleanliness and Happiness

Cleanliness! Cleanliness! Cleanliness!
Cleanliness ever gives you happiness! happiness! happiness!
For cleanliness is next to Godliness! Godliness! Godliness!

Keep your surroundings very clean,
Dust and tidy, wash and preen,
Spic and span-it must seem,
In an environment that does gleam.

Physical cleanliness is a must,
Brush your teeth and attend to bathing;
Clean your hair and wear clothes clean;
Be fresh and to be clean, be keen.

Flush all evil thoughts from your mind
And gush it with love and ever be kind;
Honesty and sincerity; goodness and cheerfulness
Implanted, will make one bounce with happiness.

poem by Chandra ThiagarajanReport problemRelated quotes
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I neither drink nor smoke, because my schoolmaster impressed upon me three cardinal virtues; cleanliness in person, cleanliness in mind; temperance.

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The Death of the Washington Madam

'A terrible waste of curves and curls'
he said as the knot was tightened
She struggled as he kicked the chair-
Was Halliburton frightened?

She was the Queen of pay for play
for D.C. Movers and Shakers
Who, judging by their tastes in sin,
Won’t be mistook for Quakers.

Her little black book (it won't be found)
Recorded details chilling
But keep your socks on, client nine
At least the sheep was willing.

“A terrible waste of a luscious mouth'
He said- her tongue protruding
'They’d have had fun in jail with that,
The clientele you're screwing.'


We'll 'suicide' as many 'Ho's
as it takes so this gets no higher.
Pay attention boys and girls-
This is our Reich stag fire


(I hated changing the first line to pass censorship
curves and curls was once T & A)

poem by John F. McCullaghReport problemRelated quotes
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Life plus over-poem-cauchy3

Bad sums are plus over.
Reach your prints on palm figures.
Seek your honors when prices are more.
Set by over setting to thinkers.

Quakers are good to bonus when treated.
Trick the good with evil realms.
Reams are ramped with static marks.
Bad lists are bad malls.

It is black mails or it is bad lists.
Political powers are quantum to full.
Loudness is sounds with gentle pitch.
Moneys are laced up shoes that are uppers.

Logics could be theory if powers extended.
Fawn men have forces at backs.
Relevance is back burners when reviewed.
Good dreamers bet the passes.

Your papers are rubber inks.
To win advantages you cover the fires.
Free the soccer to score free.
Morals roll as snows very thin.

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Animal House

In Animal House (by which title I call
A dwelling whose true name is not that at all)
There are dogs on the sofas and cats on the chairs;
Wherever you sit you get covered with hairs;
While your progress is marked by the yelps and miaous*
Of beasts you have walked on in Animal House.

There’s an Old English bantam that welcomes the dawn,
There’s a cat that sings love-songs all night on the lawn,
There’s a bachelor turtle-dove making sweet moan
And a puppy lamenting because it’s alone;
The rowdiest tavern where topers carouse
Is a meeting of Quakers to Animal House.

There’s a tortoise asleep in the strawberry bed
(They say it’s asleep but it smells a bit dead);
There are rabbits — they tell me they pluck them alive —
And ferrets in hutches and bees in a hive,
And goats, male and female, that merrily browse
On the stockings they hang out at Animal House.

There’s a little green parrot like old Uncle Ned
Without any feathers on the top of its head,
He’s eighty years old and he’s just laid an egg;
There’s a toad and a newt and a thrush with one leg,
A hedgehog, an owl and a Japanese mouse,
But . . . people are nowhere at Animal House.

poem by Cicely Fox SmithReport problemRelated quotes
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On The Hoop

The hoop, the darling justly of the fair,
Of every generous swain deserves the care.
It is unmanly to desert the weak,
'Twould urge a stone, if possible, to speak;
To hear stanch hypocrites bawl out and cry,
'This hoop's a whorish garb, fie! ladies, fie!'
O cruel and audacious men, to blast
The fame of ladies more than vestals chaste;
Should you go search the globe throughout,
None will you find so pious and devout;
So modest, chaste, so handsome, and so fair,
As our dear Caledonian ladies are.
When awful beauty puts on all her charms,
Nought gives our sex such terrible alarms,
As when the hoop and tartan both combine
To make a virgin like a goddess shine.
Let quakers cut their clothes unto the quick,
And with severities themselves afflict;
But may the hoop adorn Edina's streets,
Till the south pole shall with the northern meet.

poem by James ThomsonReport problemRelated quotes
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Zero

cover of SMASHING PUMPKINS
My reflection, dirty mirror
There's no connection to myself
I'm your lover, I'm your zero
I'm in the face of your dreams of glass
So save your prayers
For when we're really gonna need'em
Throw out your cares and fly
Wanna go for a ride?
She's the one for me
She's all I really need
Cause she's the one for me
Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness
And cleanliness is godliness, and god is empty just like me
Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness
Bullshit fakers, enchanted kingdoms
The fasion victims chew their charcoal teeth
I never let on, that I was on a sinking ship
I never let on that I was down
You blame yourself, for what you can't ignore
You blame yourself for wanting more
She's the one for me
She's all I really need
She's the one for me
She's my one and only

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Poem of Pure Autobiography

Mother was Presbyterian and Dad Roman Catholic
It took them a silver anniversary to truly bridge the gulf
And I about as long to find my way
With help from Quakers and Unitarians and other
Strange creatures of the light.

Princeton all but bluntly told me that my type was not welcome
And Chicago was offended at chapbook publishing that spoofed at Shelly
But Berkeley welcomed me
And much to Mother's dismay I said 'yes'
Not knowing what yes could mean
But desperate for heavier credentials.

Harvard even dimly figures in
For all my friends were going not to Harvard
But to its antitheses established in the great fight
That split New England congregationalism
And gave the word - Unitarian - to us as a term of derision.
Even Andover-Newton was not right
I tried it for three full days
Knowing by instinct's pain it was not the place.
Despite Dean Peck's powerful preaching.

Berkeley was for me correct and in its great freedom
A strange thing emerged, a love to learn would come and stay
Following this strange thing called truth
To an old rugged cross
Quite acceptable to Presbyterians but not to those Unitarians
Who are too busy to stop and learn.

poem by Bill GraceReport problemRelated quotes
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Constitution Visits

Things would be made much more explicit,
If those of leadership made constitution visits.
And saw and read and comprehend
What that doctrine says
To a nation of men and women!
No one needs to be Christian, Black or Jew
To uphold those rights for me or you!
No one needs to be Catholic, Baptist or 'Witness'
To live a life on this land that was not created for this!
Somehow somewhere someone thought of greed.
And represented the constitution for this purpose to feed!
Someone made it Christian and began to use a Bible.
Someone began making laws that from our constitution...
Was not viable!
We are fighting for the right to change thoughts of others,
When the understanding of what exists...
Has been twisted to make liable to stir up others' troubles!
Nothing that is done today,
Is from a constitution much abused that is reliable to use,
In the hands of those who choose it to confuse!
And where do the Puritans and Quakers fit in?
Believers and founders who arrived without documentation!
Things would be made much more explicit...
If those in roles of position,
Made a few more constitution visits!
Instead of surpressing realities in distress!
Creating not unity...
But a world in a conflicting mess!

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Not One to Contemplate Exactness

I am not one to contemplate exactness.
Or become absorbed in facts.
Especially those that are plagiarized...
To distort the origins that contradict,
From an updated freshness...
With a quick paste and clip,
To enhance what is not historic.

Like myths and legions created,
To add more flavor to the actual reality.
Instead of sweepers of streets...
Some folks are lead to believe,
They have royalty in their ancestry!

And when someone tells me they know this to be true...
I think of the Quakers and Puritans!
And others who sailed the ocean blue...
To discover a land for me and you!

Please!

And what was that between Queen Isabella,
And Christopher Columbus in 1492?
When she took a 'special' interest in Native Americans!
She bent over backwards...
To have them treated fairly although enslaved them!

I am not one to contemplate exactness.
Or become absorbed in facts.
Especially those that are plagiarized...
To distort the origins that contradict,
From an updated freshness...
With a quick paste and clip,
To enhance what is not historic.

But,
One has to admit...
A lot of what 'was'
Has been romanticized to glorify,
The truth that did exist!
And who did the twisting to eventually benefit.

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude IV.

'A pleasant and a winsome tale,'
The Student said, 'though somewhat pale
And quiet in its coloring,
As if it caught its tone and air
From the gray suits that Quakers wear;
Yet worthy of some German bard,
Hebel, or Voss, or Eberhard,
Who love of humble themes to sing,
In humble verse; but no more true
Than was the tale I told to you.'
The Theologian made reply,
And with some warmth, 'That I deny;
'T is no invention of my own,
But something well and widely known
To readers of a riper age,
Writ by the skilful hand that wrote
The Indian tale of Hobomok,
And Philothea's classic page.
I found it like a waif afloat
Or dulse uprooted from its rock,
On the swift tides that ebb and flow
In daily papers, and at flood
Bear freighted vessels to and fro,
But later, when the ebb is low,
Leave a long waste of sand and mud.'
'It matters little,' quoth the Jew;
'The cloak of truth is lined with lies,
Sayeth some proverb old and wise;
And Love is master of all arts,
And puts it into human hearts
The strangest things to say and do.'
And here the controversy closed
Abruptly, ere 't was well begun;
For the Sicilian interposed
With, 'Lordlings, listen, every one
That listen may, unto a tale
That 's merrier than the nightingale;
A tale that cannot boast, forsooth,
A single rag or shred of truth;
That does not leave the mind in doubt
As to the with it or without;
A naked falsehood and absurd
As mortal ever told or heard.
Therefore I tell it; or, maybe,
Simply because it pleases me.'

poem by Henry Wadsworth LongfellowReport problemRelated quotes
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Stay Germ Free

Bird Flu and Swine Flu can travel our way.
So may cleanliness be the mode of the day...
In the Florence Nightingale way.

'Florence Nightingale'
nurse in the Crimean War
helped British soldiers
by cleaning the hospitals
halving the dreadful death toll.
Although retired, she gave her all
to improve the conditions
in the Nursing Profession,
leaving behind a valuable lesson.

Bird Flu and Swine Flu can travel our way
So may cleanliness be the mode of the day
in the Florence Nightingale way.

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I love walking down the street and seeing faces and drama and happiness and sadness and dirt and cleanliness.

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Behind The Mind of The Abstract Poet...

Kaleidoscopic verve of vision
we dare to tread finest lines,
steady as the marionette
dangling o'er a child -
recklessly, drunkingly,
grade school tom-foolishly,
metaphorically breathing,
teasing and testing,
delivering loud messages
so subtlely...as 'we' do so well,
quite collectively, such variety,
like potpouris scent of diversity,
synthesizing all principles
of written locution;
and have you studied
the grammarical bible
of parlance, keen lexia
in lieu of lingual dreck?
personally i'd rather
be accused of shibboleth,
or the strange esoteric,
as the Masons so practiced
so f r e e l y.....covertly
bizarre in dark legendries,
by death pledge in blood
to protect their covenants
while frightening the bejesus
out of Quakers and Democrats -
threaded codes do tell tales
with their symbols 'n numerals
not so different then we
and our underlying themes
diagnal acrostics
interpretations,
indignations,
surrealistic Dali-ations,
cryptic lexicon just so -
we can create our own covenant
of dark, linguistic pages;
pages, thick with cold richness,
''our'' richness, and blood;
blood that pours hard
from every stroke of our pens,
from every rush to our brains.
And thats poetry of the Abstract
surrealistic free verse
...yes it is -
right above,
as forementioined, yes,
thats what it be-
and it's so strangely beautiful to me.

poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.Report problemRelated quotes
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