Don Marquis
Don Marquis
Donald Robert Perry Marquiswas a humorist, journalist, and author. He was variously a novelist, poet, newspaper columnist, and playwright. He is remembered best for creating the characters "Archy" and "Mehitabel", supposed authors of humorous verse. During his lifetime he was equally famous for creating another fictitious character, "the Old Soak," who was the subject of two books, a hit Broadway play, a silent movieand a talkie...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth28 July 1878
CountryUnited States of America
If a child shows himself incorrigible, he should be decently and quietly beheaded at the age of twelve, lest he grow to maturity, marry, and perpetuate his kind.
Persian pussy from over the sea demure and lazy and smug and fat none of your ribbons and bells for me ours is the zest of the alley cat
A fierce unrest seethes at the core, of all existing things:, it was the eager wish to soar, that gave the gods their wings.
There is bound to be a certain amount of trouble running any country. If you are president, the trouble happens to you. But if you are a tyrant you can arrange things so that most of the trouble happens to other people.
My heart hath followed all my days Something I cannot name.
He worked like hell in the country so he could live in the city, where he worked like hell so he could live in the country.
The things that I can't have I want, And what I have seems second-rate, The things I want to do I can't, And what I have to do I hate.
Vibrations are the key to everything. Atoms used to be, but atoms have quite gone out.
Nearly every night before I go to bed I ask myself, "Have I vibrated in tune with the Infinite today, or have I failed?
No form of government matters nearly as much as the spirit and intelligence brought to the administration of any form of government.
It has been my observation and experience, and that of my family, that nothing human works out well.
For all of the creeds are false, and all of the creeds are true; And low at the shrines where my brothers bow, there will I bow too; For no form of a god, and no fashion Man has made in his desperate passion, But is worthy some worship of mine; Not too hot with a gross belief, Nor yet too cold with pride, I will bow me down where my brothers bow, Humble, but open eyed.
As the skull of the man grows broader, so do his creeds. And his gods they are shaped in his image and mirror his needs. And he clothes them with thunders and beauty, He clothes them with music and fire, Seeing not, as he bows by their altars, That he worships his own desire.
It wont be long now it wont be long man is making deserts of the earth it wont be long now before man will have used it up so that nothing but ants and centipedes and scorpions can find a living on it.