This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
Ellen Key, fully Ellen Karolina Sofia Key
A great poet has seldom sung of lawfully wedded happiness, but of free and secret love; and in this respect, too the time is coming when there will no longer be one standard of morality for poetry and another for life. To anyone tender of conscience, the ties formed by a free connection are stronger than the legal ones.
Life | Life | Little | Passion | Pity | Time | Tragedy | Youth | Youth |
Each time you find yourself at a turning point, the best thing is to lie down and let hours pass. Resolutions made standing up are worthless: they are dictated either by pride or by fear. Prone, we still know these two scourges, but in a more attenuated, more intemporal form.
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.
That history just unfolds, independently of a specified direction, of a goal, no one is willing to admit.
Time |
Emanuel Swedenborg, born Emanujel Swedberg
Such as the love is, such is the wisdom, consequently such is the man.
Abundance | Body | Conversation | Eternal | Experience | Life | Life | Means | Meditation | Money | Need | People | Reading | Spirit | Time | World | Think | Understand |
If each of us were to confess his most secret desire, the one that inspires all his plans, all his actions, he would say: "I want to be praised."
What we crave, what we want to see in others eyes, is that servile expression, an unconcealed infatuation with our gestures.
The vision that had emerged from the invisible was returning to the invisible. It was no more an appearance that was fading away, having created an illusion. All is but a dream. And, at the peak of happiness, Angélique had vanished, in the faint breath of a kiss.
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Look back on Time, with kindly eyes - He doubtless did his best - How softly sinks that trembling sun in Human Nature's West -
Time |
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Heart, we will forget him! You and I, to-night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light. When you have done, pray tell me, That I my thoughts may dim; Haste! lest while you’re lagging, I may remember him!
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, the news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, the bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, That must have been the sun!
'Tis better to plumb the depths of unity than forever scratch the surface of variety.
Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Pardon my sanity in a world insane.
Emily Brontë, fully Emily Jane Brontë, aka pseudonym Ellis Bell
Yesterday, you know, Mr. Earnshaw should have been at the funeral. He kept himself sober for the purpose - tolerably sober; not going to bed mad at six o'clock, and getting up drunk at twelve. Consequently he rose, in suicidal low spirits; as fit for the church as for a dance; and instead, he sat down by the fire and swallowed gin or brandy by tumblerfuls.
The Christian religion and morality extols the glory of the Hereafter, and therefore remains indifferent to the horrors of the earth. Indeed, the idea of self-denial and of all that makes for pain and sorrow is its test of human worth, its passport to the entry into heaven.