A Quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Some poems are like the Centaurs--a mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud. — © Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Some poems are like the Centaurs--a mingling of man and beast, and begotten of Ixion on a cloud.
O powerful love, that in some respects makes a beast a man, in some other, a man a beast.
For the world is broken, sundered, busted down the middle, self ripped from self and man pasted back together as mythical monster, half angel, half beast, but no man...Some day a man will walk into my office as a ghost or beast or ghost-beast and walk out as a man, which is to say sovereign wanderer, lordly exile, worker and waiter and watcher.
As there is much beast and some devil in man, so is there some angel and some God in him. The beast and the devil may be conquered, but in this life never destroyed.
Superstition changes a man to a beast, fanaticism makes him a wild beast, and despotism a beast of burden.
Beast?" Jane murmured. "Then God make me a beast; for, man or beast, I am yours.
A beast does not know that he is a beast, and the nearer a man gets to being a beast, the less he knows it.
Christ Not Begotten of Holy Ghost... Christ was begotten of God. He was not born without the aid of Man, and that Man was God!
A man who behaves like a beast is worse than the beast.
A man without justice is a beast, and a man who would make himself a beast forgets the pain of being a man.
But there are times when the little cloud spreads, until it obscures the sky. And those times I look around at my fellow men and I am reminded of some likeness of the beast-people, and I feel as though the animal is surging up in them. And I know they are neither wholly animal nor holy man, but an unstable combination of both.
On just a personal level, since I was little, I've loved fairytales, especially this one, because it is about what goes into making a beast a beast. Do you start as a beast? Do you turn into a beast because of the way that people treat you? I think it's something that is really universal and hit a chord with me when I was little, and so, hopefully we can explore some of that.
There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.
I'm on cloud nine.. i wouldn't even say cloud nine... more like cloud ten... cloud nine was old news.
Gradually, I began to resent Christian school and doubt everything I was told. It became clear that the suffering they were praying to be released from was a suffering they had imposed on themselves—and now us. The beast they lived in fear of was really themselves: It was man, not some mythological demon, that was going to destroy man in the end. And this beast had been created out of their fear.
This beast went to the well and drank, and the noise was in the beast's belly like unto the questing of thirty couple hounds, but all the while the beast drank there was no noise in the beast's belly.
However, I began to submit poems to British magazines, and some were accepted. It was a great moment to see my first poems published. It felt like entering a tradition.
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