These passionate, audacious poems addressed to Hughes’s late wife, Sylvia Plath, contribute to the couple’s mythology and are a landmark in English poetry.
...Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain winds be free
To blow against thee: and in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure, when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies...
~William Wordsworth, lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey, on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour, 1798 July 13th
There are memories I choose not to live with, but we hang out at the same bar.
~Robert Brault, ...and torture myself with happy thoughts...
71. Though a lexicographical landmark to stand alongside Dr Johnson’s achievement, the original sold only 2,500 copies and left its author in debt.
The English Opium Eater by Robert Morrison: review ..
By the end of the 19th century, morphine, its principal active agent, had been isolated. The invention of the hypodermic syringe had eased delivery and we were on the road to Sherlock Holmes’s heroin addiction. But Thomas De Quincey, whose Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, published in 1821, did more than any other book to create the romance of the drug, relied on a tincture. The opium was dissolved in alcohol, usually brandy.
Confessions Of An English Opium-Eater by Thomas de …
Like his revered Samuel Taylor Coleridge, De Quincey was strictly speaking, a laudanum drinker rather than an opium eater, in all probability a double addict, alcoholic as well as junkie.
Thomas De Quincey Home Page - ROBERT MORRISON
Tonight, as I looked out my window
At the snowflakes, lovely and white,
I thought of the days of my girlhood
Long past, all so happy and bright!
~Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, "The First Snow of the Season" (1940s)
Living in memories is an empty gesture.
Confessions of an English Opium Eater ..
The codex references several additional PopCap games: and ("While the demon saw the perfect host in this bejeweled bookworm, Helianthus was not without defenses of her own.") and ("The resulting garden warfare saw corpses armored with buckets and doors as makeshift helmets and shields battling possessed fruits and vegetables who spat seeds, constructed makeshift fortifications, and even chomped entire corpses whole.")
Confessions of an English Opium-Eater
~Thomas Paine (1737–1809) + , 1868
[T]here is no such thing as possible to the mind; a thousand accidents may, and will interpose a veil between our present consciousness and the secret inscriptions on the mind; accidents of the same sort will also rend away this veil; but alike, whether veiled or unveiled, the inscription remains for ever; just as the stars seem to withdraw before the common light of day, whereas, in fact, we all know that it is the light which is drawn over them as a veil — and that they are waiting to be revealed, when the obscuring daylight shall have withdrawn.