I first got to know Charles in the late seventies when I wrote an article and then a book about him and I think at the time he came across as quite appealing, it was probably the height of his popularity.
quote by Anthony Holden
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Related quotes
I wrote that letter, and the one to Nixon. And I wrote more letters, and I thought it might be a magazine article. At that time I sent it to Esquire and Playboy, but anyway, I kept writing, and all of sudden I had enough and thought, well maybe it is a book.
quote by Don Novello
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Book Of Love
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Who wrote the book of love
Well, Ive got to know the answer
Is it someone from above
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Baby, baby, baby
I love you, yes I do
And it says so in this book of love
That Im the one thats true
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Chapter one says you love her
You love her with all your heart
Chapter two says youll never
You never, never... never gonna part
Chapter tree, remember
The meaning of romance
In chapter four you break up
Oh, wont you give me just one more chance
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
I wonder who
Who wrote the book of love
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food in store turns poison
I admired her for her popularity
I loved and married for her popularity.
More admirers came close to her
For the very popularity.
I killed her for the same popularity.
One crave for the best
And with it he is with out rest
31.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It may sound a bit like an army barracks, but the truth of the matter is: there must be some time laid aside for arranging, time for working on either a book or an article - I've written two articles in the last four months for the New York Times book review section.
Books Of Words
A new height has been achieved
By the tall men and tall women,
The people of the book that was raised
From the grounds of the school.
A new mind has occurred from imagining
The books and words and letters,
Shining forth from the page of its master
And writer who wrote the achievement.
We are history and time, we combine to feed
The mouths of our children,
As more of a book is studied by them,
More words are taught to their ears.
poem by Naveed Akram
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My Masterpiece
It's slim and trim and bound in blue;
Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold;
Its words are simple, stalwart too;
Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold.
Its pages scintillate with wit;
Its pathos clutches at my throat:
Oh, how I love each line of it!
That Little Book I Never Wrote.
In dreams I see it praised and prized
By all, from plowman unto peer;
It's pencil-marked and memorized,
It's loaned (and not returned, I fear);
It's worn and torn and travel-tossed,
And even dusky natives quote
That classic that the world has lost,
The Little Book I Never Wrote.
Poor ghost! For homes you've failed to cheer,
For grieving hearts uncomforted,
Don't haunt me now. . . . Alas! I fear
The fire of Inspiration's dead.
A humdrum way I go to-night,
From all I hoped and dreamed remote:
Too late . . . a better man must write
That Little Book I Never Wrote.
poem by Robert William Service
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I felt that, in retrospect, there was a time in the late Seventies, after I had a string of hits and successes, as a performer and a recording artist, that I wasn't saying anything.
quote by Boz Scaggs
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His Booklover
and so it came to pass
that his book lover
that he loves so much
skipped the book that he wrote
in years,
feeling dejected
he wrote another one
intended for the one
who is willing
to have him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I don't think a movie today that captured all the things that we did in the seventies could come close, because it's like asking to recreate the seventies and the audience sensibilities and that's impossible.
quote by Paul M. Glaser
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Book Of Love
Written by lindsey buckingham and richard dashut.
Walked out, goodbye
I swore I never would cry
Tore a page of my heart
She wants me to be her friend
Im lonely again
Tore a page of my heart
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
In silence the lonely make all their mistakes
Tore a page of my heart
Someone in heaven above
Shop me how to love
Tore a page of my heart
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Article
Article, ear, tear, trice, trace, tea, eat, at, era, it, are lair!
But, joy is the muse of love;
Where people are connected with the peaceful solution,
However, the people are confounded!
And the stage has now been turned into a boxing ring.
Article, art, tar, rat, air, tie, lie, tail, late, ale, trail, tale, rail;
But as sad as it is,
Who is ready to teach them?
For, their comments are like the acts of war!
And i do understand their background;
Because, a cat is always a cat!
Article, rate, rite, car, race, cat, cart, ice, lace, ace, rice, rile;
But the people are confounded!
And they need the works of love to guide them on than hate,
For, the stage has now been turned into a boxing ring!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Popularity Had Is So Passé
A popularity had is so passé
Like a trasition from one fad to another,
That eventually goes away.
For some it is nice to be the one adored.
Until the reality of becoming a bore to ignore,
Hits one that faces a closing of a door.
A popularity had is so passé .
Here today...
And 'maybe' tomorrow.
But never coming for anyone,
To sit and visit with hints of it to stay.
Anything or anyone once given it,
Gives it up one day.
A popularity had is so passé.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clash Of Civilizations
With prescience, he sang the about the clash
that faces our uncivil civilizations,
whose differences might lead to nuclear ash
descending from the skies on all the nations.
He wrote that peaceful plowshares would be turned
to swords because of differences between
religions whose intensity still burned,
destructively addictive as morphine,
far more intensely in the heart and mind
than ideologies that atrophied
like plants for which the prophet Jonah pined
when Ninevites accepted his new creed.
The clash that Samuel Huntington foresaw
materialized, we saw, on 9/11
when we found out some people wish to soar
straight from earth’s kingdom to hubristic heaven,
and in autos da fe compound their error
by their rejection of reality, and try
to change the universe with acts of terror
performed the very moment that they die.
Sam Huntington may once have been a loner,
but since his views do not defy belief
we must now all acknowledge this late Jonah,
Greek chorus of aggression and great grief.
Inspired by Tamar Lewin’s obituary in the NYT, December 29,2008 of Samuel P. Huntington, who died on December 24,2008:
By the late 1960s, Dr. Huntington had turned his attention to foreign affairs. His 1969 book “Political Order in Changing Societies, ” still widely used in graduate seminars, analyzed political and economic development in the third world. In recent years, Dr. Huntington was best known — and, since 9/11, acclaimed — for “The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, ” a 1996 book based on a 1993 Foreign Policy article. The book predicted that in the post-cold-war world, violent conflict would arise from cultural and religious differences among the major civilizations. The spread of American pop culture, he wrote, did not mean the spread of American attitudes. The book has an almost uncanny image of what was to come: “Somewhere in the Middle East, a half-dozen young men could well be dressed in jeans, drinking Coke, listening to rap, and between their bows to Mecca, putting together a bomb to blow up an American airliner.”
12/29/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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All She Wrote
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
Tell me why was I such a chore
Broken glass lies empty
Cut my voice so I can't say
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Lying here in your bed
The one that you liked to do it in
Pieces of long brown hair
Are all over it and still in my brain
I can't explain
What it's like not knowing if I'll ever cross your mind
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Sleep through the day
Fight with the night
Seven a.m. and the tv is white
Covered in snow
I never knew that hell could get so cold
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Today was that day
It was that time
And that was all that she wrote for me
You fell away
I don't know why
And that was all that she wrote for me
Something's wrong with your mind
It won't think of me anymore
Was it all a waste of time
song performed by by Default
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thoughts About Cars
Drifting thoughts.
Interesting article I read,
in a few years robots and the chip
can take over most manual work
and cars are so advanced they
don't need a driver.
75% of the population will be
permanently unemployed.
Appealing, but who is going to buy
the clever cars?
I think we have to rethink the future.
And a last thought who the hell wants
to drive a car
that drives itself?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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To Make A Dadist Poem
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are--an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.
poem by Tristan Tzara
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Its Too Late To Change The Time
[intro]
Too late
Too late
Too late
[verse 1]
In this automatic age
We shop through the yellow page
Gone is the corner store
There is a supermarket there for you
People give way to change
But feelings remain the same
[chorus]
And its too late, too late to change the time
Well its too late, too late to change the time
And its too late, too late to change the time
But its not too late (too late) to change your mind
[verse 2]
Its a new day, a new age
A photograph just taken, is ready one minute later
Cars are bigger and better
But the manufacturers sastified never
In a world full of crime
I cant let you think thats right
[chorus]
And its too late, too late to change the time
And its too late, too late to change the time
And its too late, too late to change the time
But its not too late (too late) to change your mind
No, no
[bridge 1]
So you wanna be a star (so you wanna be a star)
You are who you think you are (ah think you are)
You dont have to go further
Than my loving arms
[chorus half]
And its too late, too late to change the time
But its not too late (too late) to change your mind
[bridge 2]
Are you sure you wanna go to new york city (new york city)
Where girls make it big if theyre pretty (if they pretty)
Let say you get that penthouse view
But whos gonna love you the way I do (just the way I do)
[chorus]
Its too late, too late to change the time
And its too late, too late to change the time, no
Too late, too late to change the time
But its not too late (too late) to change your mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
[chorus]
Its too late, too late to change the time
Its too late, too late to change the time
Ooh, too late, too late to change the time
But its not too late (too late) to change your mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
song performed by by Michael Jackson
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Every time there's a revolution, it comes from somebody reading a book about revolution. David Walker wrote a book and Nat Turner did his thing.
quote by Mike Tyson
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The first book I wrote was The Bride Price which was a romantic book, but my husband burnt the book when he saw it. I was the typical African woman, I'd done this privately, I wanted him to look at it, approve it and he said he wouldn't read it.
quote by Buchi Emecheta
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Nonviolence is the first article of my faith. It is also the last article of my creed.
quote by Mohandas Gandhi
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