If by politeness then is meant goodness, it is appreciated by me as I trust it always has been, but if it is to mean the string of ceremonies generally used for concealing ill nature, and which have been
found necessary to the existence of every society whose members are wanting in self respect and morality, I detest it more than ever. My prominent idea of a polite man is one who is nothing but polish. It is an unenviable reputation. If there was anything else in him the polish would never be noticed. He is a bad drawing finely worked up, and Gérôme says that every attempt at finish on a bad design serves only to make the work more contemptible.
quote by Thomas Eakins
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
This homage has been rendered not to me - for the Polish soil is fertile and does not lack better writers than me - but to the Polish achievement, the Polish genius.
quote by Henryk Sienkiewicz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody Has To
Somebody has to go polish the stars,
They're looking a little bit dull.
Somebody has to go polish the stars,
For the eagles and starlings and gulls
Have all been complaining they're tarnished and worn,
They say they want new ones we cannot afford.
So please get your rags
And your polishing jars,
Somebody has to go polish the stars.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One is that you have to take time, lots of time, to let an idea grow from within. The second is that when you sign on to something, there will be issues of trust, deep trust, the way the members of a string quartet have to trust one another.
The New Dog
Into the gravity of my life,
the serious ceremonies
of polish and paper
and pen, has come
this manic animal
whose innocent disruptions
make nonsense
of my old simplicities--
as if I needed him
to prove again that after
all the careful planning,
anything can happen.
poem by Linda Pastan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are Deserving Of The Best
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I did not appear here expecting forgiveness.
I came to you wanting to,
Show my respect.
I take full responsibility,
For the neglect I had shown...
When then I left.
Please,
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I want to reveal to you,
My immaturity has gone.
I came back to town to let you know...
No matter what has happened,
Between us...
I want you to hear me say,
It was me...
Not you,
Who had been the one wrong!
I've been wanting to tell you that,
For so very long.
Turn around and look at me.
Please?
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
If I have to deliver it on my knees,
I will.
Only happiness in your life,
I wish for you to seek and fulfill.
I've come to you to express my respect.
And to let you know,
You are deserving of the best...
Of what life has to offer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I know many writers who first dictate passages, then polish what they have dictated. I speak, then I polish - occasionally I do windows.
quote by Edward Koch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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1st To The Finish!
1st to the finish!
Backed by your love;
Polish, Irish, finish, accomplish, dish, Kish, fish! !
And like the muse of love in the garden of peace,
But, this race is all about the muse of all races.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My parents didn't really understand too much about sport. At that time, we were in a Polish community in the inner city of Chicago, and I was the youngest of a bunch of cousins. Polish families are real big, with cousins and aunts and uncles.
quote by Mike Krzyzewski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prominent Men
Through all of the highways, the byways Ive travelled
Through all of the sidestreets and alleys of sin
Through all thats been heard nothing sinks quite as low
As the prominent statements of prominent men
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
The streets that have life with the cats underbelly
Aligned with their tracks of a thousand good-byes
A poor woman screams with the heat of disaster
As the prominent men sit and strengthen their ties
Oh, the prominent girls of the prominent people
Make prominent dresses and prominent hair
Oh, their prominent wealth and their eyes blazed with shadow
The prominent horrors with the ghost millionaire
The shiny stained window now cracked at sunset
They shiny red dawn of the heart soon must fall
This simply occurred at the seat of the cauldron
Those prominent men hadnt been there at all
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
Oh, the prominent child of these prominent people
Seeks prominent schools with the finery of age
With a prominent pink of a tasteless red orchid
The prominent men casts a prominent heir
The child of the agent walks barefoot upon grass
He screams with a power that terrors green eyes
His knife harshly glistening, stabs noways and always
But those prominent men in nowhere in sight
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mulligan's Shanty
Things is just the same as ever
On the outer Never-Never,
And you look to find the stock of liquor scanty,
But we found things worse than ordin'ry,
And in fact a bit extraordin'ry
When myself and Bill the Pinker struck the shanty.
'Shanty,' says you. 'What shanty?'
Why, Mulligan's shanty.
I says 'Whisky'; Bill says 'Brandy';
But there wasn't either handy,
For the boss was out of liquor in that line.
'Well, I'll try a rum,' says Billy.
'Got no rum,' he answers, chilly,
'But I'll recommend a decent drop o' tine.'
'Tine?' says Bill; 'what tine?'
'Why, turpentine!'
'Blow me blue!' says Bill the Pinker,
'Can't yer give us a deep-sinker?
Ain't you got a cask o' beer behind the screen?'
Bill was getting pretty cranky,
But there wasn't any swanky.
Says the landlord, 'Why not have a drop o' sene?'
'Sene?' says Bill; 'what sene?'
'Why, kerosene!'
Well, we wouldn't spend a tanner,
But the boss's pleasant manner
All our cursing couldn't easily demolish.
Says he, 'Strike me perpendic'lar
But you beggars are partic'lar,
Why, the squatter in the parlor's drinking polish!'
'Polish?' says Bill, 'what polish?'
'Why, furniture-polish!'
poem by William Thomas Goodge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Respect the doer of mean works
Respect them who do works
That demand no respects
More than them who do works
That command reverence.
Not prepared for such works
That are held low or mean,
You must at least respect
Them who do men works to you.
As a doctor serves you
A barber too serves you.
As a teacher serves you
A sweeper too serves you.
06.02.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the same period, Polish literature also underwent some significant changes. From social-political literature, which had a great tradition and strong motivation to be that way, Polish literature changed its focus to a psychological rather than a social one.
quote by Andrzej Wajda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I like the bad-boy types. Generally the guy I'm attracted to is the guy in the club with all the tattoos and nail polish. He's usually the lead singer in a punk band and plays guitar. But my serious boyfriends are relatively clean-cut, nice guys. So it's strange.
Days Of 1896
He became completely degraded. His erotic tendency,
condemned and strictly forbidden
(but innate for all that) , was the cause of it:
society was totally prudish.
He gradually lost what little money he had,
then his social standing, then his reputation.
Nearly thirty, he had never worked a full year—
at least not at a legitimate job.
Sometimes he earned enough to get by
acting the go-between in deals considered shameful.
He ended up the type likely to compromise you thoroughly
if you were seen around with him often.
But this isn't the whole story—that would not be fair.
The memory of his beauty deserves better.
There is another angle; seen from that
he appears attractive, appears
a simple, genuine child of love,
without hesitation putting,
above his honor and reputation,
the pure sensuality of his pure flesh.
Above his reputation? But society,
prudish and stupid, had it wrong.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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A.e.f.
There will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart,
The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust.
A spider will make a silver string nest in the
darkest, warmest corner of it.
The trigger and the range-finder, they too will be rusty.
And no hands will polish the gun, and it will hang on the wall.
Forefingers and thumbs will point casually toward it.
It will be spoken among half-forgotten, whished-to-be-forgotten things.
They will tell the spider: Go on, you're doing good work.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Computer Poem) A Languages Design
Learning yet another language.
The computer speaks in formulas and equations
Decoding it down to the very design.
Working backwards and seeing what you find.
Read the books and invent it as your own.
Make a claim so bold.
Look I think you found gold.
Perfection in the code.
With a vision sewed.
You put it up with an upload.
You have just shared it with all the world.
Never appreciated as the work you put into.
The click without understanding what that took.
Never a second look.
No template will do.
For as an artist work.
It must be done from scratch.
A skeleton at first.
Ugly is it curse.
But slowly it changes.
Warped and molded into something new.
It is as it is to you.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Work To Do!
i came from a generation
that worked.... was born to
work, daylight to dawn,
for everything we had.
we grew our own food, we
cut firewood, we worked
with our hands.
we were taught to work...
we built houses, bridges,
paved roads... worked on
farms, worked in sawmills,
worked in factories...
whatever it took for food
and shelter...
and if a neighbor got hurt,
or sick, and couldnt work...
we helped him and his family
till he could.
those of us left who can work
are still working, a lot of us are
out of work, and cant find work!
and so the world has changed...
it seems like a lot of people
spend more time avoiding work
than working... a lot of people
look for the easy way out...are
dependent on society...
still a lot of good and willing people
just need help.
they call this progress...based
on technology, and looking out for
number one. seperated, almost islands...
greed has taken the place of the bent back!
so when it all falls apart, and that will
be soon, what happens? who knows how
to survive? who has the backbone?
things to think about, and yes...
work to do!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is a fundamental difference between the Polish experience of the state and the Russian experience. In the Polish experience, the state was always a foreign power. So, to hate the state was a patriotic act.
quote by Ryszard Kapuscinski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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String theory is an attempt at a deeper description of nature by thinking of an elementary particle not as a little point but as a little loop of vibrating string.
quote by Edward Witten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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