We Are Seven


This has been one of my favorite poems since I was quite young.

WE ARE SEVEN   by William Wordsworth 1798-A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:                                    

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

–Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.                                    

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,

My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage, I

Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven!–I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;                               

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.                                  

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,                                     

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”                                   

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

‘Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”

1798.

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Asking questions is my thing.


If you have been at all keeping up with my posts, you probably know that I am very inquisitive. Here are some interesting and witty quotes about questions, as they are so a part of me.

The most erroneous stories are those we think we know best – and therefore never scrutinize or question.
~ Stephen Jay Gould

The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but newspapers. ~ Thomas Jefferson

A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions–as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

It is better to know some of the questions than all of the answers. ~ James Thurber

Judge of a man by his questions rather than by his answers. ~Voltaire

source

A prudent question is one-half of wisdom. ~Francis Bacon

It is error only, and not truth, that shrinks from inquiry. ~Thomas Paine

To be or not to be that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take up arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing them, end them. Hamlet~ William Shakespeare

source

In examinations, the foolish ask questions the wise cannot answer. ~Oscar Wilde

Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer sex raises some pretty good questions.

~Woody Allen

Source

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So, You Want To Be A Writer?


Charles Bukowski  said it best. 

If it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

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The very witty Oscar Wilde


  • A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.
  • Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess.
  • There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating: people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing.
  • To lose one parent, Mr Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
  • We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
  • An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.
  • Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.
  • The truth is rarely pure and never simple.*

These are a sample of Oscar Wilde’s many witticisms. 

He certainly knew how to turn a phrase.

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