Oceanidades

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak'st a day of night Goddess excellently bright. [Ben Jonson 1572-1637]

Someone will call Something will fall And smash on the floor Without reading the text Know what comes next Seen it before And it's painful Things must change We must rearrange them Or we'll have to estrange them All that I'm saying The game's not worth playing Over and over again You're the one I like best You retain my interest You're the only one If it wasn't for you Don't know what I'd do Unpredictable like the sun And the rainfall Things must change We must rearrange them Or we'll have to estrange them All that I'm saying The game's not worth playing Over and over again [Depeche Mode - The Sun and the Rainfall]

E aos grandes cientistas e pensadores que passam a sua vida a tentar fazer-nos compreender como universo é grande e quão pequeno é cada um de nós só tenho uma coisa a dizer: Pequeno? Sem Dúvida. Ínfimo? É verdade. Insignificante? Com certeza. Mas acima de tudo Uma Parte deste fabuloso Universo. Essa certeza e esse orgulho nunca me conseguirão tirar. [Luís R.]

"Dado que sou bastante mais inteligente que a maioria os meus erros tendem a ser proporcionalmente maiores" [Albus Dumbledore]

TIGER, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? [William Blake]