Dead Poets Society
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Dead Poets Society
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. To put to rout all that was not life and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
Henry David Thoreau
The Dead Poets were dedicated to "sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase of Thoreau we would invoke at the beginning of every meeting. You see, we would gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley. The biggies! Even some of our own verse. And in the enchantment of the moment, we'd let poetry work its magic [...]
It wasn't just guys. We weren't a Greek organization. We were Romantics. We didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Spirit soared, women swooned and gods were created, gentlemen.
[John Keating]
Some readings
It was a dark and rainy night. And this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles sat by herself in her house at the her table to complete the new jigsaw puzzle. As she pieced the puzzle together she realized to her astonishment that the image that was formed was her very own room and the figure in the centre of the puzzle as she completed it was herself. And with trembling hand, she placed the last four pieced and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window. The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass.
In a mean abode in the Shankill Road lived a man named William Bloat. Now he had a wife, the plague of his life who continually got his goat. And one day at dawn with her night shift on he slit her bloody throat.
Teach me to love? Go teach thyself more wit. I, chief professor, am of it. The god of love, if such a thing there be may learn to love from me.
A.Cowley
Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late too seek a newer world. For my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset. And though we are not now that strenght which in old days moved earth and heaven that which we are, we are. One equal temper of heroic hearts made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield.
A.L. Tennyson
Then I had religion. Then I had a vision. I could not turn from their revel in derison. Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black cutting through the forest with a golden track...