Do not stand at my grave and weep Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep is a poem written in 1932 by Mary Elizabeth Frye. Although the origin of the poem was disputed until later in her life, Mary Frye's authorship was confirmed in 1998 after research by Abigail Van Buren, a newspaper columnist.[1] Full text[edit] Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on the snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. Origins[edit] Mary Frye, who was living in Baltimore at the time, wrote the poem in 1932. Mary Frye circulated the poem privately, never publishing or copyrighting it. The poem was introduced to many in Britain when it was read by the father of a soldier killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland. BBC poll[edit] ... Rocky J.
PoemHunter.Com - Thousands of poems and poets. Poetry Search Engine The FBI files on being and nothingness I was leafing through some FBI files on French philosophers when a new candidate for occupancy of the populous Grassy Knoll in Dallas leapt out at me. To the massed ranks of the CIA, the Mafia, the KGB, Castro, Hoover, and LBJ, we can now add: Jean-Paul Sartre. FBI and State Department reports of the 1960s had drawn attention to Sartre’s membership of the Fair Play for Cuba Committee, of which Lee Harvey Oswald was also a member. And—prophetically? But subsequent references in the main Oswald file showed that the FBI, although generally perturbed by the “Leftist tendencies” of Sartre, and his association with Communists, Castro, and Bertrand Russell, were specifically concerned that he was now—in addition to protesting against US involvement in Vietnam—threatening to “take an active part in the French Who Killed Kennedy Committee” (according to an article in the Washington Post of 14th June 1964). The FBI had been keeping an eye on Sartre from as early as 1945.
COMPLETE COLLECTION OF POEMS BY EDGAR ALLAN POE: The Raven, Alone, Annabel Lee, The Bells, Eldorado, Ulalume and more Poe, a great 19th-century American author, was born on Jan 19, 1809, in Boston, Mass. Both his parents died when Poe was two years old, and he was taken into the home of John Allan, a wealthy tobacco exporter of Richmond, Va. Although Poe was never legally adopted, he used his foster father's name as his middle name. After several years in a Richmod academy, Poe was sent to the University of Virginia. After a year, John Allan refused to give him more money, possibly because of Poe's losses at gambling. In 1827 he published, in Boston, Tamerlane and Other Poems. Poe then began to write stories for magazines. Poe, however, soon lost his job with the magazine because of his drinking. In 1840, Poe published Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque, a two-volume set of his stories. The long illness of Virginia Poe and her death in 1847 almost wrecked Poe.
A Tale of Two Lolitas By 1955, the writing careers of Vladimir Nabokov and Dorothy Parker were headed in opposite directions. Parker’s was in a deep slump. The New Yorker—a magazine she had been instrumental in founding—had not published her fiction in fourteen years. Nabokov, by contrast, was becoming a literary sensation. The New Yorker had published several of his short stories as well as chapters of his autobiography Conclusive Evidence and of his novel Pnin. His next novel, Lolita, would bring him worldwide recognition for its virtuosic prose and the shocking story of a middle-aged man’s relationship with his pubescent stepdaughter and her aggressive mother. Yet three weeks before Lolita arrived in bookstores in France, where it first came out that September, Parker published a story—in The New Yorker, of all places—titled “Lolita,” and it centered on an older man, a teen bride, and her jealous mother. What was Dorothy Parker doing in late 1953? I am dreadfully upset by the following coincidence.
Philosophy Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those connected with reality, existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language.[1][2] Philosophy is distinguished from other ways of addressing such problems by its critical, generally systematic approach and its reliance on rational argument.[3] In more casual speech, by extension, "philosophy" can refer to "the most basic beliefs, concepts, and attitudes of an individual or group".[4] The word "philosophy" comes from the Ancient Greek φιλοσοφία (philosophia), which literally means "love of wisdom".[5][6][7] The introduction of the terms "philosopher" and "philosophy" has been ascribed to the Greek thinker Pythagoras.[8] Areas of inquiry Philosophy is divided into many sub-fields. These include epistemology, logic, metaphysics, ethics, and aesthetics.[9][10] Some of the major areas of study are considered individually below. Epistemology Rationalism is the emphasis on reasoning as a source of knowledge. Logic
A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings by Gabriel Garcia Marquez Translated by Gregory Rabassa On the third day of rain they had killed so many crabs inside the house that Pelayo had to cross his drenched courtyard and throw them into the sea, because the newborn child had a temperature all night and they thought it was due to the stench. The world had been sad since Tuesday. Sea and sky were a single ash-gray thing and the sands of the beach, which on March nights glimmered like powdered light, had become a stew of mud and rotten shellfish. Frightened by that nightmare, Pelayo ran to get Elisenda, his wife, who was putting compresses on the sick child, and he took her to the rear of the courtyard. “He’s an angel,” she told them. On the following day everyone knew that a flesh-and-blood angel was held captive in Pelayo’s house. Father Gonzaga arrived before , alarmed at the strange news. His prudence fell on sterile hearts. The curious came from far away.
Full Texts Articles Academic The Phylogeny of Little Red Riding Hood Researchers have long been fascinated by the strong continuities evident in the oral traditions associated with different cultures. According to the ‘historic-geographic’ school, it is possible to classify similar tales into “international types” and trace them back to their original archetypes. However, critics argue that folktale traditions are fundamentally fluid, and that most international types are artificial constructs. Here, these issues are addressed using phylogenetic methods that were originally developed to reconstruct evolutionary relationships among biological species, and which have been recently applied to a range of cultural phenomena. The study focuses on one of the most debated international types in the literature: ATU 333, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’. Figures Citation: Tehrani JJ (2013) The Phylogeny of Little Red Riding Hood. Editor: R. Received: July 30, 2013; Accepted: September 20, 2013; Published: November 13, 2013 Copyright: © 2013 Jamshid J. Introduction
The Trauma of Memory and the Shattering of Time in Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse–Five and Chris Marker’s La Jetée | The Culture Counter Journalist Jeffrey R. Di Leo once asked Kurt Vonnegut about the situation of the world at that time, the mid-eighties. His question was not long and difficult, but infused all the urgency of the time into one sentence: “Where’s it all headed, Mr. Vonnegut?” he asked. Vonnegut replied, “The world’s on the brink of a nuclear war and the only thing preventing it from happening is an alcoholic president staring down his last beer in an otherwise empty refrigerator.” . . Slaughterhouse-Five was published in the late 1960’s, a decade where the cold war was heating up fast and the race to outer space between the Soviet Union and the United States was reaching its climax. Monica Loeb devoted an entire chapter to time in her book Vonnegut’s Duty-Dance with Death: Theme and Structure in Slaughterhouse-Five. by Virginia Woolf. Loeb explains further along in the chapter that there are three different kinds of time. Kurt Vonnegut “A siren went off, scaring the hell out of him. Chris Marker
Sylvia Plath’s Unseen Drawings, Edited by Her Daughter and Illuminated in Her Private Letters by Maria Popova “It gives me such a sense of peace to draw; more than prayer, walks, anything. I can close myself completely in the line, lose myself in it.” Sylvia Plath — beloved poet, lover of the world, repressed “addict of experience”, steamy romancer, editorial party girl — was among that small and special coterie of creators with surprising semi-secret talents in a medium radically different from that of their primary cultural acclaim. Though her strikingly deft sketches and drawings have been previously exhibited, they are now collected with more depth and breadth in Sylvia Plath: Drawings (public library) — an enthralling portfolio of pen-and-ink illustrations amidst a context of the poet’s letters and diary entries, edited by the poet’s daughter, Frieda Hughes, for whom Plath wrote her two little-known and lovely children’s books. I’ve discovered my deepest source of inspiration, which is art: the art of the primitives like Henri Rousseau, Gauguin, Paul Klee, and De Chirico.