Italian painter and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti was born on this day in 1828. He wrote:
The hour when you learn that all is vain
And that Hope sows what Love shall never reap.
Showing posts with label vanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vanity. Show all posts
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Friday, July 30, 2010
Creeds have no credence
Novelist Emily Bronte (Wuthering Heights) was born on this day in 1818. She wrote this poem:
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts;
Unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest frost amid the boundless main.
As for Sully, he’d shed any number of things over the years, or they’d fallen away – God, awe, beauty, inspiration – but never his overweening, tedious self. It was as immense as ever, his self-preoccupation. It perched on his shoulder at the bar, importuning him. It wheedled and cajoled, craving attention. Demanding he attend to its needs. It accompanied him wherever he went, a beggar dogging his steps. How could one shake it? -- Chapter 22, The Misforgotten.
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts;
Unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest frost amid the boundless main.
As for Sully, he’d shed any number of things over the years, or they’d fallen away – God, awe, beauty, inspiration – but never his overweening, tedious self. It was as immense as ever, his self-preoccupation. It perched on his shoulder at the bar, importuning him. It wheedled and cajoled, craving attention. Demanding he attend to its needs. It accompanied him wherever he went, a beggar dogging his steps. How could one shake it? -- Chapter 22, The Misforgotten.
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