The Rosy-fingered Dawn then lent her hue
To the tower by the edge of the vale.
The cliffs were robed in vermilion. Winds blew,
Spraying the crimson sands along their trail.
Freighting the fortunes of father and son,
Were feathers shiny as the Morning Star;
Waxing to the glorious rising sun,
Were wingèd men who dared the hawks afar.
Icarus, Icarus, so high you soared.
Piteous, piteous, so long you fell.
The waves that would henceforth bear your name roared
To meet your doomed plunge and to ring your knell.
Yet we shall ever mark your flight from Crete,
And that first moment of supernal feat.
THE FALL OF LA ALBICELESTE
The Argentine came down like a wolf on the crest,
And his cohorts were gleaming in white and celeste;
And the sheen of their boots was like stars o’er the hill,
When the blue wave rolled nightly on southeast Brazil.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at the twilight were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host at the sunset laid all withered and strown.
For at length die Mannschaft spread her wings on the blast,
And incised through the flank of the foe as she passed;
Saw the eyes of the keeper waxed deadly and chill,
And his heart but once heaved, and instantly grew still!
And there sat El Pipita with nostrils all wide,
But through them there rolled not the neat breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping laid white on the turf,
And frigid as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there stood Messidona distorted and pale,
With thick sweat on his brow, and foul mud on his mail;
And the fans were all silent, the banners alone,
The gonfalons unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
The plebeians of Pampas are loud in their wail,
Their spirit roundly crushed, their consolation fail;
And the might of the Lionel, unvanquished in Spain,
Hath been brought to his knees under Germany’s reign.
LeMay said, “If we’d lost the war, we’d all have been prosecuted as war criminals.” And I think he’s right. He, and I’d say I, were behaving as war criminals. LeMay recognized that what he was doing would be thought immoral if his side had lost. But what makes it immoral if you lose and not immoral if you win?
Robert Strange McNamara, “The Fog of War”
Injustice, poverty, slavery, ignorance — these may be cured by reform or revolution. But men do not live only by fighting evils. They live by positive goals, individual and collective, a vast variety of them, seldom predictable, at times incompatible.
Sir Isaiah Berlin, “Political Ideas in the Twentieth Century” (1950)
These in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory,
In the dusk of eternity meet;—
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment-day;—
Under the laurel the Blue,
Under the willow, the Gray.
Francis Miles Finch, “The Blue and the Gray”
Dilbert: Evolution must be true because it is a logical conclusion of the scientific method.
Dogbert: But science is based on the irrational belief that because we cannot perceive reality all at once, things called “time” and “cause and effect” exist.
Dilbert: That’s what I was taught and that’s what I believe.
Dogbert: Sounds cultish.
Scott Raymond Adams, “Dilbert Comic Strip” (8 Feb 1995)
"You are going to fight that?" Ellaria Sand said in a hushed voice.
"I am going to kill that," her lover replied carelessly.