There was reference made to a book written in Greek by a former Rabbi who had been converted to Christianity. There was reference to a publication of a high clergyman of Milan. Not even did Jews raise objections to that book.
quote by Julius Streicher
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Related quotes
The book, you understand, was not written for publication. It was the portrayal of my emotions, the analysis of my own soul life during three months of my nineteenth year. I wrote then all the time, just as I do now, but, though the book is in diary form, it is not a diary.
quote by Mary MacLane
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Book Of Life
Is my name written there on those pages bright and fair
Is my name written in the book of life
If you want to be up there then down here you must prepare
And your name must be in the book of life
Get down on your knees and pray you from sin must turn away
Or your name won't be in the book of life
If you'll turn to Jesus now at his feet just humbly bow
Then your name will be in the book of life
Don't you know that Christ was sent that from sin you could repent
So your name could be in the book of life
You will have a great surprise if you fell to recognize
That your name must be in the book of life
Get down on your knees and pray you from sin must turn away
Or your name won't be in the book of life
Don't delay and don't forget that from sin you could repent
Then your name will be in the book of life
Is my name written in the book of life
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Journal Of Mine
I have written a book of memories,
It is stored inside my mind,
And recorded on its pages,
Are many stories all entwined.
Journeys through my childhood,
And on into my teenage years,
Then reaching full maturity,
Sampling a variety of careers.
It only takes a few seconds,
This journal of mine to access,
Encountering joy and sorrow,
Tears of pain and happiness.
Experiences and adventures,
Lots of hellos and goodbyes,
People all intermingled,
In my conscience, which personifies.
These memories are forever,
Full documents of all my days,
Filed away for my future reference,
Enabling entry by the use of replays.
I have written a book of memories,
Into which I just love to delve,
And wander back to times gone by.
Let me recall when I was twelve!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Now, to describe the process of the Wrapped Reichstag, which went from 1971 to '95, there is an entire book about that, because each one of our projects has its own book. The book is not an art book, meaning it's not written by an art historian.
A Poem Which Makes No Reference To Poetry
A POEM WHICH MAKES NO REFERENCE TO POETRY
A poem which makes no reference to poetry
And does not wonder who and what the poet is-
A poem that makes meanings of life outside the world of its own self- reflection-
A poem that is what life is
In some far and different way-
That poem
Waiting elsewhere
Written by someone else
So great in its beauty
And so powerful in its light
That poem written by someone else
About something I know nothing about
In a way I never dreamed or imagined
That poem is not written by me
And never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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We're Jews, my family, and Jews break down into two distinct subcultures: book Jews and money Jews. We were money Jews.
I grew up with a mother who, every time she saw something, would say, I'm going to look that up. And I've become that person - I've become the reference-book person.
quote by Jennifer Saunders
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First Week/last Week... Carefree
Can we run that again
Is that a womans voice I hear?
I said, lets wait and see. Ill see for myself
Thats a phrase I repeat
To myself
Made a reference to me and
Thats myself too
What progress I have made the first week
First week
First week
First week
Every sentence I use
Refer to women and their names
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
Thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
I heard the voice first last week
I heard it myself
Made a reference to me
And thats myself
This reports incomplete
I see for myself
Every appointment has been been moved to last week
Last week
Last week
Last week
Oh...
Ah...
Oh...
song performed by by Talking Heads
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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When I Write The Book
Nick lowe/dave edmunds/billy bremner
Plangent visions music, ltd.
Now I can remember like it was only yesterday
Love was young and foolish like a little child at play
But oh how lovers change -- I never dreamed how easily
cause now Im just a shadow of the boy I used to be
And when I write the book about my love
It will be about a man whos torn in half
About his hopes and ambitions wasted through the years
The pain will be written on every page in tears
When I write the book about my love
I was a fool to myself when I kept on runnin around
And I fared little better when I tried settlin down
Maybe some magic moment
Ive never known one, not for long
For all too soon the magic is in a moment gone
And when I write the book about my love
Itll be a heartbreaking story about love and luck
When I get down on the pages all I felt
It will make the hardest-hearted of critics hearts melt
When I write the book about my love
When I was young love was fun and I was so happy
I looked so good, and I dressed so snappy
Two-tone shoes on my feet, big old smile on my face
As I moved and grooved all over the place
Now Im down in the heels, my complexion is bad
cause my love life is sadder than sad
And when I write the book about my love
Itll be a pop publication, tougher than tough
When I get down on the pages all I missed
It will shoot to the top of the best-sellers list
When I write the book about my love
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
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The Book Of Love
In the book of love come of age
When you lose your love, you turn the page
Hey-ho the book of love,
Life is written in your own blood
Say forever and it all sounds fine
When youre holding hands,
With the hands of time
Hey-ho the book of love
Laugh at the dead but tomorrow you cry
Chorus:
My broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Change of lovers endlessly
And this book of love is writing me
Chapter 2 you walk away
But in chapter 3 a man made me stay
Hey-ho the book of love
Why dontcha look up
All the games you played
Chorus
Theyll be sweet love in a darkness
But the book of love
Is a story of your loneliness
Finger tipped it on a holy night
And a page is ripped for a name of life
Check the back cause the datell be due
When theyll throw the book of love at you
They are broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Disappointed right to be
Celebrate a celebrity
K-i-s-s-i-n-g
Ah stupid cupid set me free
Took a look and whatll I see
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
song performed by by Cher
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What Is The 'Orthodox' Difference
There is too much hypocrisy expressed,
In religion.
Too much division in it too...
For it to go unobserved.
The existence of 'Christianity'
Is based upon concepts created by the 'Jews'.
And there seems to be a conflict of interests...
When folks of ignorance slander, demean and smear,
Like they do!
Especially when people uphold beliefs,
Similar in nature.
And said to establish foundations...
That are firm in culture, heritage and customs
As solid as concrete!
And who doesn't know concrete eventually crumbles?
What is the 'orthodox' difference...
When Catholics and Jews conduct familiar rituals?
Wear kippahs (yalmulkes) to dentify their strong ties.
Keep people of color submissive and dismissed.
With racist overtones they claim do not exist!
Yet this clearly sits,
To acknowledge those who are hypocrites
There is too much hypocrisy expressed,
In religion.
Too much division in it too...
For it to go unobserved.
NOTE:
Judaism (from the Greek Ioudaïsmos, derived from the Hebrew י ה ו ד ה , Yehudah, 'Judah';
[1] in Hebrew: י ַ ה ֲ ד ו ּ ת , Yahedut, the distinctive characteristics of the Judean ethnos)
[2] is a set of beliefs and practices originating in the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh) ,
as later further explored and explained in the Talmud and other texts.
Judaism presents itself as the covenantal relationship between the Children of Israel
(later, the Jewish nation) and God.
It is considered either the first or one of the first monotheistic religions,
and is among the oldest religions still being practised today.
Many of its texts and traditions are central to the other Abrahamic religions,
with Jewish history and the principles and ethics of Judaism having influenced Christianity and Islam,
as well as some non-Abrahamic religions.
As the foundation of Western Christianity,
many aspects of Judaism also correspond to secular Western concepts of ethics and civil law.
Reference: Wikipedia
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Best Book In The World
the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature
the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within
the best book
the only true book
(every other book is distortion)
is the world itself
the Book of Nature:
read it
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Write Yours Now
The 'Journal of Death Studies' for April2004
(maybe you read it? It's in the
hospital library, top shelf
just out of wheelchair reach,
on the shelf labelled 'Reference')
observed that
nonfiction writers tend to die, factually, at sixty-eight;
novelists tie it all up at sixty-six;
playwrights lower the curtain at sixty-three,
and poets close their stanzas at sixty-two.
Well, thanks..
six years - looking on the bright side -
for your favourite biographer to write you up;
four years for novelists to borrow
your untidy life and win the Booker Prize;
a year for playwrights to emulate
the bitter dialogue of your later,
less romantic household years
with less fear of being sued.
Those whom the gods love, die young,
said the optimistic poet
shortly before he died.
for PoHo, who gave me the damn book with the reference in.
And yes, I wondered too..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I read a book
I read a book
Not to enhance my looks
I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook
I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook
I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light
I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook
I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took
I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook
I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I have also written a book about the Giving of the Torah, and a book on the Days of Awe, and a book on the books of Israel that have been written since the day the Torah was given to Israel.
quote by Shmuel Y. Agnon
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Legumes
Sephardic Jews,
Ashkenazi Jews,
Legumes;
Of this Common Era to expose my love to you,
But the 'Jewish Book of Why' is all that you have.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Book
I have found myself searching for a book in my father's attic.
A book that he meant to burn, but instead hid away.
On his deathbed he told me categorically to destroy it,
by burning each page come what may.
The book was a Greek translation from ancient Aramaic text,
which was discovered in eastern Turkey in 1886.
The goat herder that found it sold it for a few Turkish lira
to a Greek mountain climber and archaeologist.
In Athens he read it and told a learned friend about its contents,
his so called friend told someone else and so did he.
This inevitably led to the book being stolen and repeatedly sold,
until my father bought it from a French soldier in 1943.
As a young man my father studied ancient Greek at university
and soon realised what the book contained.
It was a powder keg of mind blowing revelations about the psyche,
its development and expansion were explained.
It detailed the mind control of others, mysticism, and the occult.
The practice of spiritual and angelic communication.
The transportation of the body to other dimensions,
and life's process of perpetuation.
My father read the book though didn't practice it's teachings,
he realised the enormous threats to life it contained.
But for many reasons he found its destruction impossible,
so it's fate with me remained.
poem by Orlando Belo
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What name shall I leave?
In different times and in different circles,
By different names I had been identified
With reference to my parents and grandparents
Or with reference to my spouse or my children
And in the meantime by pseudonyms and surnames
And sometimes by the posts held, all along my life.
By what name I have been known in a circle
Had become irrelevant to other circles.
What name shall I leave to stay behind when I die?
24.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Homelessness
There is homelessness
In ungodliness
So much mindlessness
To this kind of indifference
There is no reference
To my homelessness
This restlessness
To nothingness
This unholiness
There is no reference
There is no address
To this kind of unwholesomeness
There is nothing found
Only something lost.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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