Line(s) of the Day #TheCrucible

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It is rare for people to be asked the question which puts them squarely in front of themselves.

As said by John Proctor in the masterpiece play that is The Crucible by Arthur Miller. Published in 1953, but set in 1692, the story is based on the notorious Salem witch trials which tore a small Massachusetts town against itself. Miller admitted the play was an allegory for McCarthism, when hundreds of Americans were aggressively accused of being communists or communist sympathisers.

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Line(s) of the Day #TheNarrowWay

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But he that dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose

Taken from the poem The Narrow Way by Anne Brontë (1820 – 1849), who died at the tragically early age of 29 from illness. Anne, whose writings included the novels Agnes Grey and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, is also known for being the youngest member of the literary Brontë family.

Line of the Day #OfMiceandMen

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Maybe ever’body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.

As said by Slim, the “prince of the ranch”, in John Steinbeck’s novella masterpiece Of Mice and Men (1937).  Set during the Great Depression, it tells of two migrant ranch workers, George and Lennie, who dream of earning enough money to buy their own land. However problems continually arise due to lack of understanding of Lennie’s mental disability and his fiercesome strength.

Line(s) of the Day #TheTrial

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Someone must have been spreading lies about Josef K, for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one morning.

The opening lines of the novella The Trial by Czech-born German language writer Franz Kafka. Published posthumously in 1925, (but believed to be written around 1914 / 1915), it tells of an innocent man’s struggles to clear against a charge he is never made aware of.  I’ve long been a fan of his work and quoted my favourite of his short stories here,

Line(s) of the Day #ToAutumn #Yeats

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Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too –
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue

From the last stanza of To Autumn by the beloved English romantic poet John Keats (1795 – 1821). Despite his hugely untimely death at aged 25, Keats is still considered one of the greatest ever poets. You can my other favourite lines from his Ode to a Nightingale poem here.

Line(s) of the Day: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

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You think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly in times of great trouble?

As said by the wise and benevolent Professor Albus Dumbledore in Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban (1999), the third of the series, and my favourite. You can find another example of Dumbledore’s knowledge here, and my tour of Harry Potter Studios here.

Line(s) of the Day #WutheringHeights

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I have not broken your heart – you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

As said by the intensely tortured Heathcliff in Emily Bronte’s Gothic classic Wuthering Heights (1847). Famously set in the Moors of Yorkshire, the quote highlights the complex relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw, which drives the heart of the book. The gorgeous cover is entitled Figures in a Storm by one of my favourite artists. Percivus has nothing to do with the story but wanted to be included. It is a Penguin Classic after all.

Line(s) of the Day #TheDuchessofMalfi

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Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust,
Like diamonds, we are cut with our own dust

As quoted by Ferdinand in The Duchess of Malfi (1612 – 1613) by John Webster, one of the great early writers. Though I’ve yet to read it, I’ve always been struck by this quote since seeing it on Amy’s blog, where she quoted it again recently.

Creative #SheLovedMeOnce

She loved me once and I threw it away
A love so pure there was plenty to spare
And yet not enough for me to keep
And not enough for me to share

Her and I loved in different ways, speeds and styles
At contrasting times and in different places
Her love for me now sat with old newspapers
Faded clothes, expired milk and long-forgotten faces

But my love for her caught in a sandtimer
With my heart waiting for the last grain to fall
Memories varying from light to dark and dark to light
And questions and questions challenging it all

Whether better to have loved and lost I’m not certain
I wanted to love you the way you did me
My love took too long to catch up with yours
And you never slowed down, more’s the pity

I will let go, I hold on with fewer fingers now
The future is coming into view more than the past
But while we’ll never be that us again
Your role in my life will last

After finding an old poem Some Things, I decided to fine tune another poem I wrote while back.

Line(s) of the Day #WeHaveAlwaysLivedintheCastle

We Have Always Lived in The castle

I remember that I stood on the library steps holding my books and looking for a minute at the soft hinted green in the branches against the sky and wishing, as I always did, that I could walk home across the sky instead of through the village.

The novella masterpiece We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962) by Gothic writer Shirley Jackson, who also wrote one of the finest short stories with The Lottery (1948). As told by the unreliable narrator Mary Katherine ‘Merrikat’ Blackwood, it tells of a family’s ostracising in a small town after a poisoning incident that killed four members of the family.