Freedom

Freedom
is the right which every man has to be honest, and to think and speak without hypocrisy... Certain men can live happily without honour, others suffer terribly when they see that those around them lead dishonorable lives. In this world, there has to be a certain amount of honour. Whenever there are many men without honour, there are always others who preserve in themselves the honour of many men put together. These are they who rebel with terrible fury against those who take away the freedom of a nation, which is to rob men of their honour. In these men are contained thousands and thousands of men, a whole human people is contained in them, indeed the whole of human dignity.
Jose Marti The Golden Age

FOR ANY BOY

I wish for him
Strength; that he may be strong in every limb,
stubborn and fearless, with no cover to thank,
fighting for men with men in the front rank.

I wish him kind;
that he may have the weak always in mind;
such kindness as first treads the path of fear,
not tendance on the wounded in the rear.

I'd have him grow
deep-breathed, deep-hearted, cherished of wind
and snow;
loving delightful laughter, and harsh thrills
in summer rivers and on perilous hills.

I wish him sight;
that he may read the world's real beauties right:
and for himself, wit and a laughing heart,
lest he may rage to bear so small a part.

I wish him thought;
that he may fashion faith even to a nought
rather than take another's creed on trust,
and pass a fool and profitless to dust.

I'd have him range
a rebel, loving change only for change;
till he can forge a yoke for his broad back
and drag his kind one step up some new track.

Let him know men,
and have all act's all passions in his ken:
they win no wars who peep on life askance
and shoot wise saws from sheltered ignorance.

Let him be flame,
quenchless and vital, in all winds the same;
fuse soul and body, and refine through years
judgement from passion, joy from his burning tears.

So let him live:
love work, love rest, love all that life can give;
and when he grows too weary to feel joy,
leave life, with laughter, to some other boy.

Geoffrey Winthrop Young.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or thine own; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne, Meditation XVII

To discover errors in axioms, or first principles grounded in facts, is like the breaking of a charm. The enchanted castle, the steepy rock, The burning lake disappear, and the paths that lead to truth, Which we imagined to be so long, so embarrassed and so difficult, Shew as they are - short, open and easy.

Belingbroke

To Lucasta, on going to the Wars

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As thou to shalt adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much
Loved I not Honour more.

Richard Lovelace

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And heaven in a wild flower;
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour

William Blake

I would willingly have displayed here the proud axiom: ‘Nemo laeditur nisi a se ipso’, had I not feared to offend the immense number of persons who, whenever anything goes wrong with them, are wont to exclaim, “It is no fault of mine!” I cannot deprive them of that small particle of comfort, for, were it not for it, they would soon feel hatred for themselves, and self-hatred often leads to the fatal idea of self-destruction. As for myself I always willingly acknowledge my own self as the principal cause of every good or of every evil which may befall me; therefore I have always found myself capable of being my own pupil, and ready to love my teacher.
Giacomo Casanova De Seingalt

In Flanders' Fields

In Flanders' Fields the Poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders' Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high,
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though Poppies grow
In Flanders' Fields.

John McCrae, 1915

I never gave up what I loved, I just learnt to find the love in whatever it was I was doing,
and that’s what I lost when they finally broke me, I lost the love...

Jonathan Roberts