The Tale of Genji in particular is the highest pinnacle of Japanese literature. Even down to our day there has not been a piece of fiction to compare with it. That such a modern work should have been written in the eleventh century is a miracle, and as a miracle the work is widely known abroad.

You laughed for the marrow in their bones that was not yet ready for laughter;
And you wept for their eyes that yet were dry.
Your voice fathered their thoughts and their understanding.
Your voice mothered their words and their breath.

?they cannot exist unless they can live in the village insuch a way that the changes that they bring about are necessary … in determining who they are

In order to have an economy that works, we have to be safe. The safety of our citizens and our nation is always government's first responsibility. And I will keep working to support our brave men and women of law enforcement and to keep our country safe

Historians must break out of the prison of ideas.

Two years after launching The Huffington Post I was exhausted, burnt out. The feeling many of us have. I collapsed from exhaustion and on the way down I hit my head on the desk, broke my cheekbone and got four stitches on my right eye. And it started me on this journey of questioning what success is

Tim Brooke-Taylor: "The Times: Nothing Happened Yesterday

He's the one
Who likes all our pretty songs
And he likes to sing along
And he likes to shoot his gun
But he knows not what it means.

[http://www.britannica.com/eb/article-9049584/al-Maarri Profile in Encyclopædia Britannica]

You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.

Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you
All.

யாமறிந்த மொழிகளிலே தமிழ்மொழி போல்
இனிதாவது எங்கும் காணோம்po

Kurokami no
Shira kami made to
Musubiteshi
Kokoro hitotsu wo
Ima takame ya mo

After this I proceeded to the city of Barwan, in the road to which is a high mountain, covered with snow and exceedingly cold; they call it the Hindu Kush, that is Hindu-slayer, because most of the slaves brought thither from India die on account of the intenseness of the cold.

Imperceptible
It withers in the world,
This flower-like human heart.

Prunella Scales – Sybil Fawlty