A poem by A.E. Houseman
Posted on February 12, 2010
I don't know its name if it has one, but its good;
Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.A.E. Houseman
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A little wisdom.
Posted on February 10, 2010
Confucius once said:
If language is not correct, then what is said is not what is meant;
if what is said is not what is meant, then what must be done remains
undone; if this remains undone, morals and art will deteriorate; if
justice goes astray, the people will stand about in helpless confusion.
Hence there must be no arbitrariness in what is said. This matters above
everything.
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