Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun.
You're like one of those dogs, the unwanted ones that have been mistreated all their lives. You can kick them and kick them, but they'll still come back to you, cringing and wagging their tails. Begging, hoping that this time it'll be different, that this time they'll do something right and you'll love them. You're just like that, aren't you.
Just as to prohibit shouting fire in a crowded theater is a reasonable limitation on our universally appealing constitutional right to freedom of speech, the American people and their elected political representatives should debate whether to prohibit and punish speech that advocates violence against persons or groups engaging in non-violent speech and non-violent activities. The advocacy of violence against the non-violent ignites the passions of the “mad dogs” in every society and turns them loose against champions of new ideas intended to advance Peace, Prosperity and Freedom through Justice for all members of human society. The free and open marketplace for reasoned debate cannot function in an orderly way when invaded by suicide bombers or those who incite violence and killing of non-violent advocates of change. Ignoring such hate-mongering is a formula for spreading fear of free speech throughout society, leaving the pursuit of Truth, Love and Justice to those willing to martyr themselves for their commitment to the advance of civilization. What prompted a mentally unstable person like Jared Lee Loughner to shoot Rep. Gabielle Giffords, or John Hinckley, Jr. to shot Ronald Reagan? Who helped from afar to “pull the trigger” in the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Medgar Evers and other champions of justice throughout human history? To what extent was the preaching of religious and ideological extremists responsible for 9/11 and for the killing of thousands of innocent people by hate-filled suicide bombers? How can the War of Ideas be won if the advocacy of violence against the non-violent is not suppressed as a social cancer threatening the sacred marketplace of free and open debate? [Message on signing Move-On petition on Jan. 11, 2011.]
And if thou, O poet, wishest to describe the works of nature by thine unaided art, and dost represent various places and the forms of diverse objects, the painter surpasses thee by an infinite degree of power; but if thou wishest to have recourse to the aid of other sciences, apart from poetry, they are not thy own; for instance, astrology, rhetoric, theology, philosophy, geometry, arithmetic and the like. Thou art not then a poet any longer. Thou transformest thyself, and art no longer that of which we are speaking. Now seest thou not that if thou wishest to go to nature, thou reachest her by the means of science, deduced by others from the effects of nature? And the painter, through himself alone, without the aid of aught appertaining to the various sciences, or by any other means, achieves directly the imitation of the things of nature. By painting, lovers are attracted to the images of the beloved to converse with the depicted semblance. By painting whole populations are led with fervent vows to seek the image of the deities, and not to see the books of poets which represent the same deities in speech; by painting animals are deceived. I once saw a picture which deceived a dog by the image of its master, which the dog greeted with great joy; and likewise I have seen dogs bark at and try to bite painted dogs; and a monkey make a number of antics in front of a painted monkey. I have seen swallows fly and alight on painted {68} iron-works which jut out of the windows of buildings.
Cat: a pygmy lion who loves mice, hates dogs, and patronizes human beings.
I love<b> dogs, but I hate Chihuahuas. A Chihuahua isn't a dog. It's a rat with a thyroid problem.
A modern gentleman is necessarily the enemy of his country. Even in war he does not fight to defend it, but to prevent his power of preying on it from passing to a foreigner. Such combatants are patriots in the same sense as two dogs fighting for a bone are lovers of animals.
As when within some rapid river's mouth The billows and stream clash, on either shore Loud sounds the roar of waves ejected wide, Such seem'd the clamors of the Trojan host. But the Achaians, one in heart, around Patroclus stood, bulwark'd with shields of brass And over all their glittering helmets Jove Darkness diffused, for he had loved Patroclus While yet he lived friend of Æacides, And now, abhorring that the dogs of Troy Should eat him, urged the Greeks to his defence, The host of Troy first shook the Grecian host; The body left, they fled; yet of them all, The Trojan powers, determined as they were, Slew none, but dragg'd the body. Neither stood The Greeks long time aloof, soon as repulsed Again led on by Ajax, who in form And in exploits all others far excell'd. Peerless Æacides alone except. Right through the foremost combatants he rush'd, In force resembling most some savage boar That in the mountains bursting through the brakes, The swains disperses and their hounds with ease; Like him, illustrious Ajax, mighty son Of Telamon, at his assault dispersed With ease the close imbattled ranks who fought Around Patroclus' body, strong in hope To achieve it, and to make the glory theirs. Hippothoüs, a youth of high renown, Son of Pelasgian Lethus, by a noose Around his ancle cast dragg'd through the fight Patroclus, so to gratify the host Of Ilium and their Chief; but evil him Reached suddenly, by none of all his friends (Though numerous wish'd to save him) turn'd aside. For swift advancing on him through the crowd The son of Telamon pierced, spear in hand, His helmet brazen-cheek'd; the crested casque, So smitten, open'd wide, for huge the hand And ponderous was the spear that gave the blow And all around its neck, mingled with blood Gush'd forth the brain. There, lifeless, down he sank, Let fall the hero's foot, and fell himself Prone on the dead, never to see again? Deep-soil'd Larissa, never to require Their kind solicitudes who gave him birth, In bloom of life by dauntless Ajax slain. Then Hector hurl'd at Ajax his bright spear, But he, forewarn'd of its approach, escaped Narrowly, and it pierced Schedius instead, Brave son of Iphitus; he, noblest Chief Of the Phocensians, over many reign'd, Dwelling in Panopeus the far-renown'd. Entering beneath the clavicle the point Right through his shoulder's summit pass'd behind, And on his loud-resounding arms he fell. But Ajax at his waist wounded the son Of Phoenops, valiant Phorcys, while he stood Guarding Hippothöus; through his hollow mail Enforced the weapon drank his inmost life, And in his palm, supine, he clench'd the dust. Then, Hector with the foremost Chiefs of Troy Fell back; the Argives sent a shout to heaven, And dragging Phorcys and Hippothöus thence Stripp'd both. In that bright moment Ilium's host Fear-quell'd before Achaia's warlike sons Had Troy re-enter'd, and the host of Greece By matchless might and fortitude their own Had snatch'd a victory from the grasp of fate, But that, himself, the King of radiant shafts Æneas roused; Epytis' son he seem'd Periphas, ancient in the service grown Of old Anchises whom he dearly loved; His form assumed, Apollo thus began.
What, above all, manifested the shrewdness of the steward, and the profound science of the master, the one in carrying out the ideas of the other, was that this house which appeared only the night before so sad and gloomy, impregnated with that sickly smell one can almost fancy to be the smell of time, had in a single day acquired the aspect of life, was scented with its master's favorite perfumes, and had the very light regulated according to his wish. When the count arrived, he had under his touch his books and arms, his eyes rested upon his favorite pictures; his dogs, whose caresses he loved, welcomed him in the ante-chamber; the birds, whose songs delighted him, cheered him with their music; and the house, awakened from its long sleep, like the sleeping beauty in the wood, lived, sang, and bloomed like the houses we have long cherished, and in which, when we are forced to leave them, we leave a part of our souls. The servants passed gayly along the fine court-yard; some, belonging to the kitchens, gliding down the stairs, restored but the previous day, as if they had always inhabited the house; others filling the coach-houses, where the equipages, encased and numbered, appeared to have been installed for the last fifty years; and in the stables the horses replied with neighs to the grooms, who spoke to them with much more respect than many servants pay their masters.
Hector! I am undone; we both were born To misery, thou in Priam's house in Troy, And I in Hypoplacian Thebes wood-crown'd Beneath Eëtion's roof. He, doom'd himself To sorrow, me more sorrowfully doom'd, Sustain'd in helpless infancy, whom oh That he had ne'er begotten! thou descend'st To Pluto's subterraneous dwelling drear, Leaving myself destitute, and thy boy, Fruit of our hapless loves, an infant yet, Never to be hereafter thy delight, Nor love of thine to share or kindness more. For should he safe survive this cruel war, With the Achaians penury and toil Must be his lot, since strangers will remove At will his landmarks, and possess his fields. Thee lost, he loses all, of father, both, And equal playmate in one day deprived, To sad looks doom'd, and never-ceasing-tears. He seeks, necessitous his father's friends, One by his mantle pulls, one by his vest, Whose utmost pity yields to his parch'd lips A thirst-provoking drop, and grudges more; Some happier child, as yet untaught to mourn A parent's loss, shoves rudely from the board My son, and, smiting him, reproachful cries-- Away--thy father is no guest of ours-- Then, weeping, to his widow'd mother comes Astyanax, who on his father's lap Ate marrow only, once, and fat of lambs, And when sleep took him, and his crying fit Had ceased, slept ever on the softest bed, Warm in his nurse's arms, fed to his fill With delicacies, and his heart at rest. But now, Astyanax (so named in Troy For thy sake, guardian of her gates and towers) His father lost, must many a pang endure. And as for thee, cast naked forth among Yon galleys, where no parent's eye of thine Shall find thee, when the dogs have torn thee once Till they are sated, worms shall eat thee next. Meantime, thy graceful raiment rich, prepared By our own maidens, in thy palace lies; But I will burn it, burn it all, because Useless to thee, who never, so adorn'd, Shalt slumber more; yet every eye in Troy Shall see, how glorious once was thy attire.
"My love," said the marquise, "attend to your doves, your lap-dogs, and embroidery, but do not meddle with what you do not understand. Nowadays the military profession is in abeyance and the magisterial robe is the badge of honor. There is a wise Latin proverb that is very much in point."
My Hector! wait not, oh my son! the approach Of this dread Chief, alone, lest premature Thou die, this moment by Achilles slain, For he is strongest far. Oh that the Gods Him loved as I! then, soon should vultures rend And dogs his carcase, and my grief should cease. He hath unchilded me of many a son, All valiant youths, whom he hath slain or sold To distant isles, and even now, I miss Two sons, whom since the shutting of the gates I find not, Polydorus and Lycaon, My children by Laothöe the fair. If they survive prisoners in yonder camp, I will redeem them with gold and brass By noble Eltes to his daughter given, Large store, and still reserved. But should they both, Already slain, have journey'd to the shades, We, then, from whom they sprang have cause to mourn And mourn them long, but shorter shall the grief Of Ilium prove, if thou escape and live. Come then, my son! enter the city-gate That thou may'st save us all, nor in thy bloom Of life cut off, enhance Achilles' fame. Commiserate also thy unhappy sire Ere yet distracted, whom Saturnian Jove Ordains to a sad death, and ere I die To woes innumerable; to behold Sons slaughter'd, daughters ravish'd, torn and stripp'd The matrimonial chamber, infants dash'd Against the ground in dire hostility, And matrons dragg'd by ruthless Grecian hands. Me, haply, last of all, dogs shall devour In my own vestibule, when once the spear Or falchion of some Greek hath laid me low. The very dogs fed at my table-side, My portal-guards, drinking their master's blood To drunkenness, shall wallow in my courts. Fair falls the warlike youth in battle slain, And when he lies torn by the pointed steel, His death becomes him well; he is secure, Though dead, from shame, whatever next befalls: But when the silver locks and silver beard Of an old man slain by the sword, from dogs Receive dishonor, of all ills that wait On miserable man, that sure is worst.
Him answer'd then the herald of the skies. Oh venerable sir! him neither dogs Have eaten yet, nor fowls, but at the ships His body, and within Achilles' tent Neglected lies. Twelve days he so hath lain; Yet neither worm which diets on the brave In battle fallen, hath eaten him, or taint Invaded. He around Patroclus' tomb Drags him indeed pitiless, oft as day Reddens the east, yet safe from blemish still His corse remains. Thou wouldst, thyself, admire Seeing how fresh the dew-drops, as he lies, Rest on him, and his blood is cleansed away That not a stain is left. Even his wounds (For many a wound they gave him) all are closed, Such care the blessed Gods have of thy son, Dead as he is, whom living much they loved.
22:15. Without are dogs and sorcerers and unchaste and murderers and servers of idols and every one that loveth and maketh a lie.
Doubtless the early inhabitants of Britain shared to a large extent in the habits of the other Celtic peoples; the fact that they kept good hunting dogs is vouched for by Strabo; and an interesting illustration of the manner in which these were used is given in the inscription quoted by Orelli (n. 1603)--"Silvano Invicto Sacrum--ob aprum eximiae formae captum, quem multi antecessores praedari non potuerunt." Asser, the biographer of Alfred the Great, states that before the prince was twelve years of age he "was a most expert and active hunter, and excelled in all the branches of that noble art, to which he applied with incessant labour and amazing success."[7] Of his grandson Athelstan it is related by William of Malmesbury that after the victory of Brunanburgh he imposed upon the vanquished king of Wales a yearly tribute, which included a certain number of "hawks and sharp-scented dogs fit for hunting wild beasts." According to the same authority, one of the greatest delights of Edward the Confessor was "to follow a pack of swift hounds in pursuit of game, and to cheer them with his voice." It was under the Anglo-Saxon kings that the distinction between the higher and lower chase first came to be made--the former being expressly for the king or those on whom he had bestowed the pleasure of sharing in it, while only the latter was allowed to the proprietors of the land. To the reign of Cnut belong the "Constitutiones de Foresta," according to which four thanes were appointed in every province for the administration of justice in all matters connected with the forests; under them were four inferior thanes to whom was committed immediate care of the vert and venison.[8] The severity of the forest laws which prevailed during the Norman period is sufficient evidence of the sporting ardour of William and his successors. The Conqueror himself "loved the high game as if he were their father"; and the penalty for the unauthorized slaughter of a hart or hind was loss of both eyes. Entry: HUNTING
The Hojo family, to which belonged Masa, Yoritomo's consort, assumed towards the Kamakura shogun an attitude similar to that previously assumed by the Fujiwara family towards the emperor in Kioto. A child, who on state occasions was carried to the council chamber in Masa's arms, served as the nominal repository of the shogun's power, the functions of administration being discharged in reality by the Hojo family, whose successive heads took the name of _shikken_ (constable). At first care was taken to have the shogun's office filled by a near relative of Yoritomo; but after the death of that great statesman's two sons and his nephew, the puppet shoguns were taken from the ranks of the Fujiwara or of the Imperial princes, and were deposed so soon as they attempted to assert themselves. What this meant becomes apparent when we note that in the interval of 83 years between 1220 and 1308, there were six shoguns whose ages at the time of appointment ranged from 3 to 16. Whether, if events had not forced their hands, the Hojo constables would have maintained towards the Throne the reverent demeanour adopted by Yoritomo must remain a matter of conjecture. What actually happened was that the ex-emperor, Go-Toba, made an ill-judged attempt (1221) to break the power of Kamakura. He issued a call to arms which was responded to by some thousands of cenobites and as many soldiers of Taira extraction. In the brief struggle that ensued the Imperial partisans were wholly shattered, and the direct consequences were the dethronement and exile of the reigning emperor, the banishment of his predecessor together with two princes of the blood, and the compulsory adoption of the tonsure by Go-Toba; while the indirect consequence was that the succession to the throne and the tenure of Imperial power fell under the dictation of the Hojo as they had formerly fallen under the direction of the Fujiwara. Yoshitoki, then head of the Hojo family, installed his brother, Tokifusa, as military governor of Kioto, and confiscating about 3000 estates, the property of those who had espoused the Imperial cause, distributed these lands among the adherents of his own family, thus greatly strengthening the basis of the feudal system. "It fared with the Hojo as it had fared with all the great families that preceded them: their own misrule ultimately wrought their ruin. Their first eight representatives were talented and upright administrators. They took justice, simplicity and truth for guiding principles; they despised luxury and pomp; they never aspired to high official rank; they were content with two provinces for estates, and they sternly repelled the effeminate, depraved customs of Kioto." Thus the greater part of the 13th century was, on the whole, a golden era for Japan, and the lower orders learned to welcome feudalism. Nevertheless no century furnished more conspicuous illustrations of the peculiarly Japanese system of vicarious government. Children occupied the position of shogun in Kamakura under authority emanating from children on the throne in Kioto; and members of the Hojo family as shikken administered affairs at the mandate of the child shoguns. Through all three stages in the dignities of mikado, shogun and shikken, the strictly regulated principle of heredity was maintained, according to which no Hojo shikken could ever become shogun; no Minamoto or Fujiwara could occupy the throne. At the beginning of the 14th century, however, several causes combined to shake the supremacy of the Hojo. Under the sway of the ninth shikken (Takatoki), the austere simplicity of life and earnest discharge of executive duties which had distinguished the early chiefs of the family were exchanged for luxury, debauchery and perfunctory government. Thus the management of fiscal affairs fell into the hands of Takasuke, a man of usurious instincts. It had been the wise custom of the Hojo constables to store grain in seasons of plenty, and distribute it at low prices in times of dearth. There occurred at this epoch a succession of bad harvests, but instead of opening the state granaries with benevolent liberality, Takasuke sold their contents at the highest obtainable rates; and, by way of contrast to the prevailing indigence, the people saw the constable in Kamakura affecting the pomp and extravagance of a sovereign waited upon by 37 mistresses, supporting a band of 2000 dancers, and keeping a pack of 5000 fighting dogs. The throne happened to be then occupied (1310-1338) by an emperor, Go-Daigo, who had reached full maturity before his accession, and was correspondingly averse from acting the puppet part assigned to the sovereigns of his time. Female influence contributed to his impatience. One of his concubines bore a son for whom he sought to obtain nomination as prince imperial, in defiance of an arrangement made by the Hojo that the succession should pass alternately to the senior and junior branches of the Imperial family. Kamakura refused to entertain Go-Daigo's project, and thenceforth the child's mother importuned her sovereign and lover to overthrow the Hojo. The _entourage_ of the throne in Kioto at this time was a counterpart of former eras. The Fujiwara, indeed, wielded nothing of their ancient influence. They had been divided by the Hojo into five branches, each endowed with an equal right to the office of regent, and their strength was thus dissipated in struggling among themselves for the possession of the prize. But what the Fujiwara had done in their days of greatness, what the Taira had done during their brief tenure of power, the Saionji were now doing, namely, aspiring to furnish prime ministers and empresses from their own family solely. They had already given consorts to five emperors in succession, and jealous rivals were watching keenly to attack this clan which threatened to usurp the place long held by the most illustrious family in the land. A petty incident disturbed this state of very tender equilibrium before the plan of the Hojo's enemies had fully matured, and the emperor presently found himself an exile on the island of Oki. But there now appeared upon the scene three men of great prowess: Kusunoki Masashige, Nitta Yoshisada and Ashikaga Takauji. The first espoused from the outset the cause of the Throne and, though commanding only a small force, held the Hojo troops in check. The last two were both of Minamoto descent. Their common ancestor was Minamoto Yoshiiye, whose exploits against the northern Yemishi in the second half of the 11th century had so impressed his countrymen that they gave him the title of Hachiman Taro (first-born of the god of war). Both men took the field originally in the cause of the Hojo, but at heart they desired to be avenged upon the latter for disloyalty to the Minamoto. Nitta Yoshisada marched suddenly against Kamakura, carried it by storm and committed the city to the flames. Ashikaga Takauji occupied Kioto, and with the suicide of Takatoki the Hojo fell finally from rule after 115 years of supremacy (1219-1334). The emperor now returned from exile, and his son, Prince Moriyoshi, having been appointed to the office of shogun at Kamakura, the restoration of the administrative power to the Throne seemed an accomplished fact. Entry: IX
Mary Stuart was in many respects the creature of her age, of her creed, and of her station; but the noblest and most noteworthy qualities of her nature were independent of rank, opinion or time. Even the detractors who defend her conduct on the plea that she was a dastard and a dupe are compelled in the same breath to retract this implied reproach, and to admit, with illogical acclamation and incongruous applause, that the world never saw more splendid courage at the service of more brilliant intelligence, that a braver if not "a rarer spirit never did steer humanity." A kinder or more faithful friend, a deadlier or more dangerous enemy, it would be impossible to dread or to desire. Passion alone could shake the double fortress of her impregnable heart and ever-active brain. The passion of love, after very sufficient experience, she apparently and naturally outlived; the passion of hatred and revenge was as inextinguishable in her inmost nature as the emotion of loyalty and gratitude. Of repentance it would seem that she knew as little as of fear, having been trained from her infancy in a religion where the Decalogue was supplanted by the Creed. Adept as she was in the most exquisite delicacy of dissimulation, the most salient note of her original disposition was daring rather than subtlety. Beside or behind the voluptuous or intellectual attractions of beauty and culture, she had about her the fresher charm of a fearless and frank simplicity, a genuine and enduring pleasure in small and harmless things no less than in such as were neither. In 1562 she amused herself for some days by living "with her little troop" in the house of a burgess of St Andrews "like a burgess's wife," assuring the English ambassador that he should not find the queen there,--"nor I know not myself where she is become." From Sheffield Lodge, twelve years later, she applied to the archbishop of Glasgow and the cardinal of Guise for some pretty little dogs, to be sent her in baskets very warmly packed,--"for besides reading and working, I take pleasure only in all the little animals that I can get." No lapse of reconciling time, no extent of comparative indulgence, could break her in to resignation, submission, or toleration of even partial restraint. Three months after the massacre of St Bartholomew had caused some additional restrictions to be placed upon her freedom of action, Shrewsbury writes to Burghley that "rather than continue this imprisonment she sticks not to say she will give her body, her son, and country for liberty"; nor did she ever show any excess of regard for any of the three. For her own freedom of will and of way, of passion and of action, she cared much; for her creed she cared something; for her country she cared less than nothing. She would have flung Scotland with England into the hell fire of Spanish Catholicism rather than forgo the faintest chance of personal revenge. Her profession of a desire to be instructed in the doctrines of Anglican Protestantism was so transparently a pious fraud as rather to afford confirmation than to arouse suspicion of her fidelity to the teaching of her church. Elizabeth, so shamefully her inferior in personal loyalty, fidelity and gratitude, was as clearly her superior on the one all-important point of patriotism. The saving salt of Elizabeth's character, with all its wellnigh incredible mixture of heroism and egotism, meanness and magnificence, was simply this, that, overmuch as she loved herself, she did yet love England better. Her best though not her only fine qualities were national and political, the high public virtues of a good public servant; in the private and personal qualities which attract and attach a friend to his friend and a follower to his leader, no man or woman was ever more constant and more eminent than Mary Queen of Scots. (A. C. S.) Entry: MARY