top of page
.png){kind=small}
"In your language you have a form of poetry called a sonnet...It is a very strict form of poetry, is it not?...There are fourteen lines, I believe, all in iambic pentameter. That's a very strict rhythm or meter, yes?...And each line has to end with a rigid rhyme pattern. And if the poet does not do it exactly this way, it is not a sonnet, is it?''No.''But within this strict form the poet has complete freedom to say whatever he wants, doesn't he?''Yes." Calvin nodded again.'So,' said Mrs. Whatsit.'So what?''Oh, do not be stupid, boy!' Mrs. Whatsit scolded. 'You know perfectly well what I am driving at!''You mean you're comparing our lives to a sonnet? A strict form, but with freedom within it?''Yes,' Mrs. Whatsit said. "You're given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself."
Standard
Customized
Exlpore more Philosophy quotes
"Thought, if I may put it, is the man behind the possession, appearance, things we like, things we hate and the very epitome of life."
"Your subconscious mind is the universal mind with a universal consciousness."
"Absolute is infinite so there is no absolute truth. There is truth that you can see in infinite ways and make your own."
"Every aspect of your life will be enlivened when you start to think and communicate with your heart and mind in cohesive coordinated harmony."
"Think about yourself because no one has time to think about you. Everyone is busy thinking about themselves."
"I don't claim to know everything, Wally. I only claim that everything can eventually be known."
"I don't know who you are or where you are, but I know your deep driving desires. I am writing to you to make your life a little easier and better."
"There are two kinds of people:those who learned to love and those who didn't."
"Any education that doesn't allow you to think freely is not an education but a prison."
"I came to this world to bloom and spread my love to fill the world with happiness."
Explore more quotes by Madeleine L'Engle
"Rather than feeling lost and unimportant and meaningless, set against galaxies which go beyond the reach of the furthest telescopes, I feel that my life has meaning. Perhaps I should feel insignificant, but instead I feel a soaring in my heart that the God who could create all this - and out of nothing - can still count the hairs of my head."
"The writer does want to be published; the painter urgently hopes that someone will see the finished canvas (van Gogh was denied the satisfaction of having his work bought and appreciated during his lifetime; no wonder the pain was more than he could bear); the composer needs his music to be heard. Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work has been stillborn."
"Is it that bad, Mrs. Bowen?" Clement asked.Emily shook her head. "Gertrude's been hurt and so she's generalizing. It's a pretty good country on the whole, and the people in it, too. We have our faults and they may be glaring, and we have individuals we may not be proud of, but take us by and large we'll stick our necks our for something we believe in, and that in itself may be a fault, but it's one I like.""Bravo," Abe said."
"Meg looked. The dark shadow was still there. It had not lessened or dispersed with the coming of night. And where the shadow was, the stars were not visible.What could there be about a shadow that was so terrible that she knew that there had never been before or ever would be again, anything that would chill her with a fear that was beyond shuddering, beyond crying or screaming, beyond the possibility of comfort?"
"It takes too much energy to be against something unless it's really important."
"Humility is throwing oneself away in complete concentration on something or someone else."
"I didn't mean to tell you," Mrs. Whatsit faltered. "I didn't mean ever to let you know. But oh, my dears, I did so love being a star!" "Yyouu are sstill verry yyoungg," Mrs Witch said, her voice faintly chiding. The Medium sat looking happily at the star-filled sky in her ball, smiling, and nodding and chuckling gently. But Meg noticed that her eyes were drooping, and suddenly her head fell forward and she gave a faint snore."Poor thing," Mrs Whatsit said, "we've worn her out. It's very hard work for her."
"The creative impulse can be killed, but it cannot be taught...What a teacher can do...in working with children, is to give the flame enough oxygen so that it can burn. As far as I'm concerned, this providing of oxygen is one of the noblest of all vocations."
bottom of page