The Best Famous Literature Quotes

  • Famous
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  • 1

    A Favorite of 390 users

    Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Chops"
    because that was the name of his dog
    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and a gold star
    And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
    and read it to his aunts
    That was the year that Father Tracy
    took all the kids to the zoo
    And he let them sing on the bus
    And his little sister was born
    with tiny toenails and no hair
    And his mother and father kissed a lot
    And the girl around the corner sent him a
    valentine signed with a row of X's
    and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
    And his father always tucked him in bed at night
    And was always there to do it

    Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Autumn"
    because that was the name of the season
    And that's what it was all about
    And his teacher gave him an A
    and asked him to write more clearly
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because of its new paint
    And the kids told him
    that Father Tracy smoked cigars
    And left butts on the pews
    And sometimes they would burn holes
    That was the year his sister got glasses
    with thick lenses and black frames
    And the girl around the corner laughed
    when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
    And the kids told him why
    his mother and father kissed a lot
    And his father never tucked him in bed at night
    And his father got mad
    when he cried for him to do it.

    Once on a paper torn from his notebook
    he wrote a poem
    And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
    because that was the question about his girl
    And that's what it was all about
    And his professor gave him an A
    and a strange steady look
    And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
    because he never showed her
    That was the year that Father Tracy died
    And he forgot how the end
    of the Apostle's Creed went
    And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
    And his mother and father never kissed
    or even talked
    And the girl around the corner
    wore too much makeup
    That made him cough when he kissed her
    but he kissed her anyway
    because that was the thing to do
    And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
    his father snoring soundly

    That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
    he tried another poem
    And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
    Because that's what it was really all about
    And he gave himself an A
    and a slash on each damned wrist
    And he hung it on the bathroom door
    because this time he didn't think
    he could reach the kitchen.

    Posted by I_made_the_devil_cry in Literature  ID#:15312
  • 2

    A Favorite of 105 users

    When he shall die,
    Take him and cut him out in little stars,
    And he will make the face of heaven so fine
    That all the world will be in love with night

    Posted by magpie in Literature  ID#:4112
  • 3

    A Favorite of 93 users

    What's in a name? That with we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet.

    Posted by SparklingDiamond in Literature  ID#:4053
  • 4

    A Favorite of 91 users

    The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense.

    Posted by young_grasshopper in Literature  ID#:20059
  • 5

    A Favorite of 80 users

    It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

    Posted by young_grasshopper in Literature  ID#:20146
  • 6

    A Favorite of 79 users

    Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.

    Posted by jen_gem2002 in Literature  ID#:21137
  • 7

    A Favorite of 77 users

    And thus the Third Age of Middle Earth began. History became legend, legend became myth – and some things that should not have been forgotten … were lost.

    Posted by magpie in Literature  ID#:4209
  • 8

    A Favorite of 64 users

    My words fly up, My thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

    Posted by None in Literature  ID#:737
  • 9

    A Favorite of 59 users

    We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

    Posted by androdinozaur in Literature  ID#:23031
  • 10

    A Favorite of 48 users

    All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.

    Posted by magpie in Literature  ID#:4129
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