favorite poem,book,and quote : Othor Games

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 6:06 pm

Favorite book is The Ark (By I forget who :sadvaultboy: Though it's not religious; it's a space story, actually.)

Don't have a favorite poem. :shrug:

And my favorite quote is one I've seen credited to Albert Einstein, "I have no special talents, I am only passionately curious."

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 9:28 am

Favorite poem is Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen. Ridiculously depressing, but so beautifully evocative.

Spoiler

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Favorite quote: "They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist..." - General John Sedgwick (1813-1864), last words

He was big as an elephant apparently.. :unsure:

"Who put this violin in my violinca-" machine gun Kelly

Favorite book is The Ark (By I forget who :sadvaultboy: Though it's not religious; it's a space story, actually.)

By Stephen Baxter par chance?

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 10:01 am

It really is a shame that Orwell, Huxley, or Vonnegut never won the Nobel Prize in Literature. :confused:

One article I read, which was addressing why so many great authors had never won the award, said that:

"And that appears to be something of a goal of the Swedish Academy--to select those writers who are really voicing the angst of the voiceless, the nitty-gritty realities of humanity."

The Nobel Peace and Literature Prizes are more often than not decided for political reasons. The awards are a joke.

It's better to have your works cherished for centuries than to have some snobby elitists give you an "award".

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 8:48 am

It's better to have your works cherished for centuries than to have some snobby elitists give you an "award".

except the award also comes with a hundred grand..

screw posterity, I wants to get paid!

» Tue Nov 29, 2011 12:57 am

except the award also comes with a hundred grand..

screw posterity, I wants to get paid!

True, but they were not really writers that were in it for the money. The three of them were more concerned with their ideas than their wallets.

I can't believe I did not put any of Orwell's works in my list. It's a shame that most people only read Animal Farm and 1984 his other fiction and non-fiction novels were spectacular.

» Tue Nov 29, 2011 12:29 am

I don't have a favourite book really - too many and I always feel bad for choosing one.

Favourite poem is probably The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by T.S.Eliot

Favourite quote is from my second favourite poem:

They [censored] you up, your Mum and Dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:16 pm

Favourite poem- I don't know many poems but I read a book of poems called The Works i got it when I was a child, some of them are quite good.
Favourite book- I love a lot of books, I do love Harry Potter but I think that's just because I grew up reading them over and over again and going to midnight releases

My favourite book apart from that would either be the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Small Gods or Mort by Terry Pratchett or The Green Mile by Stephen King. Actually, now that I think about it one of my favourite ever series is the Adrian Mole books by Susan Townsend, so one of my favourites would be The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4.
Favourite quote- I don't know. I want to put something inspiring and inspirational, but failing to come up with anything like that, instead I'll put, "Oh no, not again." - Bowl of Petunias

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 10:01 am

Poem - The Owl and the pvssycat by Edward Lear. I've always loved that poem.

Book- Very tricky one, this. I have a lot of favourites. If I were forced to choose, I guess Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club or Barbara Ewing's The Trespass.

Quote- "I'd rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion." - Henry David Thoreau.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 4:21 pm

My favorite book is "To Kill A Mockingbird".
My favorite poem is "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.
And my two favorite quotes are in my sig I believe.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:19 am

"The only constants in life are variables." -ABC's Greek

"Wear knowledge like a watch. Keep it hidden, and pull it out when you need to." -unknown

"Think of your heart as a dustless mirror, reflecting to the world who you truly are. Do not cover the mirror." -From some old flash movie series i saw a long time ago...

"Life is not all that complicated. You wake up, go to work, take one good dump and go to bed. Where's the (bleep)ing misery???" -George Carlin

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:14 am

Favorite Poem: The Raven

Favorite Book: well... that's quite a broad topic. I'll just go with The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury

Favorite Quote: "What is the nature of the search? you ask. Really it is very simple; at least for a fellow like me. So simple that it is easily overlooked. The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life." ~ Walker Percy

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:38 am

Favourite poem: "This is a haiku, / I am not good at these things, / Refrigerator." I never really got into poems, as you can probably tell. I believe that's 5/7/5. I was never that good with syllables. I blame my grade school teachers. They all had different views on where syllables start and end.

Favourite book? That's a tough one. It's probably a five-way tie between Tom Clancy's Executive Orders, Debt of Honor, George Orwell's 1984, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and Kurt Vonnegut's Player Piano (Sirens of Titan was pretty good as well).

I like the Clancy novels because the plot is so well thought out and written (Executive Orders is a direct sequel to Debt of Honor. Very suspenseful at times and I just couldn't put either of them down once the action got rolling (about 450 pages into Debt of Honor... yeah there was alot of setting up). I don't really think I need to say much about 1984. I love the ending. Brave New World... I hate that book the first time I read it. But, after reading five or six or times, I realized it wasn't meant to be read for it's story. All the underlying messages and thoughts are what makes this book so great. It really makes you think about things in a way you (well me, anyways) never thought of before. Player Piano was very similar to Brave New World, in some regards. Not quite as thought provoking but the plot was much better.

If anyone's wondering why I read Brave New World so many times despite hating it the first time, I wrote an essay for my Grade 12 English class comparing (or contrasting? I don't remember which one) certain elements from that book and Player Piano.

My favourite quote comes from Sirens of Titan. I don't remember what it was word-for-word, so I'm'a paraphrase it for y'all. "The problem with dumb [people born out of wedlock] is that sometimes they're too dumb to know there's such a thing as being smart."

Can we include song lyrics in this thread or are they off-limits? Some songs have really good lyrics. Others, not so much, haha.

I'm fairly partial to Tom Clancy myself, I like the realistic portrayal of what the CIA can and cannot do. I especially like how they don't always save the day. The first time I read some of those Ryanverse books I had the thought in the back of my head "Okay, I've got about 100 pages left, there are agents looking around in the right area, what are they going to clue into to stop the bad guys? Okay 50 pages left, time to stop these guys! Holy (censored)! I guess the bad guys win this one." Though I like Without Remorse the best of that bunch.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:43 pm

I'm not into poetry, but one poem I do like is the shortened version of Rendezvous by Alan Seeger.
My favourite author is without a doubt Sir Terry Pratchett, I honestly do believe that he is the greatest living fantasy author. I mean he helped Neil Gaiman get his start: Good Omens.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:08 am

I'm fairly partial to Tom Clancy myself, I like the realistic portrayal of what the CIA can and cannot do. I especially like how they don't always save the day. The first time I read some of those Ryanverse books I had the thought in the back of my head "Okay, I've got about 100 pages left, there are agents looking around in the right area, what are they going to clue into to stop the bad guys? Okay 50 pages left, time to stop these guys! Holy (censored)! I guess the bad guys win this one." Though I like Without Remorse the best of that bunch.

Never managed to get a hold of Without Remorse, unfortunately. A pity too, considering John Clark was probably my favourite character from that universe. Which reminds me of Rainbow Six, gawd that was a great book.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 10:53 am

Jabberwocky.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 6:41 pm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGCJFFxoHJ4

fixed it for ya

scooter:
"Have you seen the scene?! Even when you know what it is, you don't know what it is!"

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 3:53 pm

Poem: If by Rudyard Kipling

Spoiler

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Book: too many. Can't decide.
Quote: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." -- Margaret Mead

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 1:44 pm

John Lennon
"I sat belonely"

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.

I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.

'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.

Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.

'I thought you were a lady'.
I giggle, - well I may,
To my suprise the lady,
got up - and flew away.

------------------John Lennon

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 4:18 pm

It's too hard to choose so I'm just going to put in a good word for P.G. Wodehouse and take my leave.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 9:15 am

Fantasy: The Sillmarillon, by Tolkien
Historical Ficton: The Walled Garden/Goatsong by Tom Holt
Science Fiction: Sentenced to Prism, Alan Dean Foster
NonFiction: Stalking the Wild Asparagus, by Euell Gibbons

Poem:
La Paquebot/The Ship by Ernest Hemmingway

In the morning did the passengers
Seek to bolt the massive foodstuffs
Came the Duke
He of Argyle
Downed the cornbeef
Downed the salad
Came unto the great roast porker
Got it in his mouth and half way
Down his gullet he got it,
Then it rose
He would of strangled
But he rushed forth from the salon
Moved by motives philanthropic
Sought to furnish food for fishes,
Here we draw the curtain readers
Here we draw the baleful curtain.
We will not tell of his pukings
Of his retchings and his gobbings
Nay we will not gentle reader.
WE WILL NOT TELL OF THE BUNTIN
shooting forth the pale green mixture
Like the clam juice flecked with syrup.
Or of Fritz the noted Spiegel
Bringing forth the whole oranges
Or of Captain Pease the easily heard
What he puketh forth we tell not
For we fear it hurteth discipline.
So we leave you gentle reader
We must seek a can
Or washbowl.

Favorite quote is "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
Rudyard Kipling

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 8:20 pm

Shell, by Shinkichi Takahashi

Nothing, nothing at all
is born,
dies, the shell says again
and again
from the depth of hollowness.
Its body
swept off by tide -- so what?
It sleeps
in sand, drying in sunlight,
bathing
in moonlight. Nothing to do
with sea
or anything else. Over
and over
it vanishes with the wave.

Book: 'The Wisdom of Life & Counsels and Maxims' by Arthur Schopenhauer

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 2:54 pm

These are the lyrics to a song by the Band La Dispute, who put out their new album at the beginning of the month called Wildlife. Their vocalist/lyrcist writes some of my favorite lyrics which I can read on there own and enjoy, even without the emotion of his voice. The name of the song is King Park.

Another shooting on the southeast side.
This a drive-by, mid-day,
Outside of the bus stop, by Fuller and Franklin. Or near there.
Not far from the park. About a block from where the other shooting was last
Month.
Or was it last week?

Shots were fired from an SUV heading northbound, Eastown,
The target a rival but they didn't hit the target this time.
They hit a kid we think had nothing to do with it.

And I travel backwards through time and space and I disintegrate, become
Invisible.
I want to see it where I couldn't when it happened.
I want to see it all first hand this time.
I want to know what it felt like.

So I float behind police lines, reconstruct the scene in fragments of
Memories.
I want to know what his mother looked like up close, I want to see her
Leaning over his body.
So I float there, transcend time. I want to capture it accurately.
I want to know what the color of the blood was spilling out from the tarp
Onto the concrete.
I want to write it all down so I can always remember.
If you could see it up close how could you ever forget how senseless death,
How precious life.
I want to be there when the bullet hit.

And the crowd poured out as the shots drowned into siren sounds, out of
There houses now
And over front yards, all the way up to the place where the police tape ran
To mark the crime
Scene. Everybody trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening,
Of what was going on between the ambulance and all the cop cars.
Everybody gossiping, "Whose kid got hit? Where'd it hit him? And who
Could've fired it?"
Everybody wondering, "How did it happen again? And is he dead? These
Children. Our kids."
Everybody wondering how far they were from where the victims lived.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/l/la+dispute/king+park_20981842.html ]
And I visit them, their houses. Inside my dream I visit them.
My spirit, soaring high and high up over King Park, leaves the crime scene,
Travels further back
Till far before the shooting, through their windows, to their living rooms.
I see them younger this time, playing games and doing homework.
All these marks of youth soon transformed coldly into stone for fights and
Stupid feuds.
For ruins wrapped in gold. And cruelly I recall why I have come: To find a
Reason. But
There cannot be a reason, not for death, not like this. Not like this.

Three days later they made funeral plans. The family.
Three days later a mother had to bury her son.

Not far away the shooter holed up in a hotel near to the highway with a
Friend and the gun.
That same gun. He'd fled immediately but was identified by witnesses, his
Picture on TV.
Only 20 years old, they called him "Grandpa." He was older than the others
By a year,
Maybe two.

And he was safe for awhile until somebody saw him there and notified the
Authorities
Who surrounded the hotel, first arresting an accomplice while attempting to
Flee,
Then chasing him up the staircase to the floor where he'd stayed. He closed
The door hard
Behind him, locked himself in the room.

They could've kicked in the door but knew the gun was still with him,
One he'd already used and so they feared what he'd do.
I floated up through the window of a room to the West.
I hovered out to the hallway, tried to listen in.
I heard them trying to reason, get him to open the door.
His uncle begging and pleading, half-collapsed to the floor.
He preached of hope and forgiveness,
Said, "There is always a chance to rectify what you've taken, make your
Peace in the world."
I thought to slip through the door, I could've entered the room,
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core.
Felt like the world was collapsing. Then we heard him speak,
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I ever be forgiven cuz I killed that kid?
It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they
Send me to hell?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
I left the hotel behind, don't want to know how it ends.

I also highly enjoy the poem "since feeling is first" by ee cummings.

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 11:15 pm

I guess I'll add my favourite lyrics, since they're basically poems.

Ghost on the Dance Floor - Blink 182
Probably some of their more touching lyrics. About a lost loved one. Repetitive parts removed.

Spoiler

I'll never let you down, boy
I'll never let you go
Her subtle hint of life
Is so innocent and scary

So, tell me that you're here, boy
She says as if she knows
When God took her with time
God made me quite alone

It's like the universe has left me
Without a place to go
Without a hint of light
To watch the movement glow
When our song was slowly starting
Your memory felt so real
At first against my will
But God invented chills

Yeah, I
I saw your ghost tonight
The moment felt so real
If your eyes stay right on mine
My wounds would start to heal

The kids are in a hurry
And I'm just full of fear
The lights make bodies blurry
It's getting hard enough to hear
It's like the evidence is cared for
And evidently clear
If I never leave this dance floor
I'll never leave you here

Yeah, I
I saw your ghost tonight
The moment felt so real
If your eyes stay right on mine
My wounds would start to heal

I felt your ghost tonight
And God, it felt like hell
To know you're almost mine
But dreams are all I feel

Yeah, I
I saw your ghost tonight
It [censored] hurt like hell
I felt you here tonight
But dreams can't all be real

Hair-Trigger - Protest The Hero
These lyrics probably aren't what you think they're about

Cookie to whoever can guess it.

Spoiler

That sweet little redhead's got her hooks in my back
She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in

Her hot breath on my skin
Her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind
It constantly lingers

'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can believe her
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can leave her

Every kiss is a little sickening
I can feel Death's fingers quickening
Tightening my passageways
If you can't count the years
Start counting days

Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
She's hand picked the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, it's not too late

I wrote a [censored] love song to praise everything I hate
And kids were wanting the chorus line
And they sealed my picture's frame
She might run [censored] for right now but I'll be damned if it's forever and always

As the chorus-line fades away like friends in high-school hallways

Oh, I got this feeling
That things will never, ever, ever be the same
Things will never be the same

What about those rainy nights in London?
What about the crippling desert heat?
What about all those times you swore you'd never leave me?
What about the hospital in L.A.?
You took me back after that night
What about that blackened image in my mind?
I swear I burn with a new light
What about that frozen, dripping, holiday bird that's cold
She's cold as ice!

And finally. A song I can relate to. Natives (also by) Blink 182.

Spoiler

I'm like a cat in a cage, locked up and battered and bruised
I am the prodigal son, a shameful prodigy too
I am the love of your life, battering ram and confused
I turn each day into night, I stand there waiting for you
There is desire to fight, but I have nothing to prove
With the crowd and some lights, I start to feel things move
Do you have something to hide? 'Cause I think that we all do
I am a child inside, back up and give me some room

I'm just a bastard child, don't let it go to your head
I'm just a waste of your time, maybe I'm better off dead
They turn us loose in the night, I'm [censored] Jekyll and Hyde
We'll have the time of our lives although we're dying inside

So let me go, go
So let me go, go
Just let me go, go
I'd rather go it alone
So let me go, go
So let me go, go
Just let me go, go
I'm never coming home

Don't start to panic for me, 'cause I have nothing to lose
I am as bright as the sun, I burn up all that I choose
Up on the side of the field, I see a city with lights
I touch her face and I kneel, she tells me she's not alive
I am too nervous to run, like kids who scatter and hide
Still reach and grab for someone, but end up buried alive
The world is waiting for me, a road that I rarely used
I start to feel my feet, they kick down walls as they move

I'm just a bastard child, don't let it go to your head
I'm just a waste of your time, maybe I'm better off dead
They turn us loose in the night, I'm [censored] Jekyll and Hyde
We'll have the time of our lives although we're dying inside

So let me go, go
So let me go, go
Just let me go, go
I'd rather go it alone
So let me go, go
So let me go, go
Just let me go, go
I'm never coming home

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 8:36 pm

I guess I'll add my favourite lyrics, since they're basically poems.

Hair-Trigger - Protest The Hero
These lyrics probably aren't what you think they're about

Cookie to whoever can guess it.

Spoiler

That sweet little redhead's got her hooks in my back
She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in

Her hot breath on my skin
Her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind
It constantly lingers

'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can believe her
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can leave her

Every kiss is a little sickening
I can feel Death's fingers quickening
Tightening my passageways
If you can't count the years
Start counting days

Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
She's hand picked the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, it's not too late

I wrote a [censored] love song to praise everything I hate
And kids were wanting the chorus line
And they sealed my picture's frame
She might run [censored] for right now but I'll be damned if it's forever and always

As the chorus-line fades away like friends in high-school hallways

Oh, I got this feeling
That things will never, ever, ever be the same
Things will never be the same

What about those rainy nights in London?
What about the crippling desert heat?
What about all those times you swore you'd never leave me?
What about the hospital in L.A.?
You took me back after that night
What about that blackened image in my mind?
I swear I burn with a new light
What about that frozen, dripping, holiday bird that's cold
She's cold as ice!

Spoiler

Cigarettes?

» Mon Nov 28, 2011 10:45 am

"May your enternal endeavors find grace."

It came to me in a dream :shrug: .