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I'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father.

Thomas Campbell

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Thomas Campbell
Age: 66 †
Born: 1777
Born: July 27
Died: 1844
Died: June 15
Journalist
Musicologist
Poet
Writer
Glasgow
Scotland
Sky
Angry
Meet
Father
Raging
Skies
Rage

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Where the Scriptures speak, we speak where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent.
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On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
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One moment may with bliss repay Unnumbered hours of pain.
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Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.
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Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
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He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.
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The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.
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Tomorrow let us do or die!
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Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
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Fundamental assumptions in general and scientific assumptions in particular are so hard to overturn because they are based on belief. Beliefs are so hard to overcome because they are irrational and therefore do not yield to logical argument.
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Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.
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Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing Wed or cease to woo.
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The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
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For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.
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The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.
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O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
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The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
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An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.
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