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OP
Carpal Tunnel
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One line of Shakespeare's that sticks with me forever is the beginning of the soliloquy in which Hamlet's mother describes Ophelia's suicide: There is a willow grows aslant a brookI read a scholarly article years ago in which an argument was made about how Emily Dickinson had most certainly been inspired by the Shakespearean line to begin her own poem: There is a certain slant of lightIt's very interesting to me how such simple lines lead on to such great development--how such simple lines reel us in. Anyway, I've just learned about a CD of viola music that has been entitled "There Is a Willow Grows Aslant a Brook"--wow! The simple line again reeling us in to an entire recording, and the line was haunting enough that Britten wrote a composition for viola that the notes on the link describe as being 'hauntingly beautiful.' I don't know the composition, but will definitely take a look at it soon. http://www.asv.co.uk/dca1064.htm
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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that is a great line, ww. maybe we should have a thread of favorite single lines? I'll have to think about it for a while... I love Britten, I'll have to look for that. 
formerly known as etaoin...
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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My favorite poet wrote this haunting line as the beginning of my favorite poem: Piping down the valleys wild (I will grudgingly admit to there being that 'special something' to that one S-peare line.)
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Carpal Tunnel
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OP
Carpal Tunnel
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Jackie has begrudgingly found a line of Shakespeare's she doesn't mind? Will miracles never cease?
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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We love the things we love for what they are.
--Robert Frost, Hyla Brook
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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There is a willow grows aslant a brook
There is a certain slant of light
There is a certain slant here that eludes me.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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There is a certain slant here that eludes me.Well, if the slant is certain, then how's it eluding you? 
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addict
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addict
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Streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent - T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
The burnt out ends of smoky days - T.S. Eliot, Preludes
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? - T.S. Eliot. Gerontion
The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting - Milan Kundera, The book of laughter and forgetting
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of habit - Tagore, Gitanjali
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enthusiast
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enthusiast
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My favorite first-lines in poetry are the first two lines of Hopkins' Inversnaid: This darksome burn, horseback brown, His rollrock highroad roaring down
It's just got such a powerful rhythm and makes the poem immediatly so solid and atmospheric - something to read out loud. And I think the rest of the poem is great too.
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