26 ordspråk av John Masefield
John Masefield
Once in a century a man may be ruined or made insufferable by praise. But surely once in a minute something generous dies for want of it.
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One road leads to London, / One road runs to Wales, / My road leads me seawards / To the white dipping sails.
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Poetry is a mixture of common sense, which not all have, with an uncommon sense, which very few have.
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Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir/ Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, / With a cargo of ivory, / And apes and peacocks,/Sandalwood, cedarwood and sweet white wine.
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Sex ran in him like the sea
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Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man; it has become the amusement and delight of the few.
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Success is the brand on the brow of a man who has aimed too low.
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The days that make us happy make us wise
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The luck will alter and the star will rise.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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