I'm liking these!
>>6, is there anything in particular from the speech that you find yourself quoting most? What part of it sticks out most to you?
>>7 Rants are great! Glad you were okay posting it on here. Hopefully this community is some sort of safe haven from what you described therein.
>>8 I'd love to read the story when you do get around to writing it. Often, I've found, you just need to get the first words out.
Anyway, since there have been a few more selections, I'm going to add one more -- "Ozymandias" by Percy Sehlley (in its entirety):
I met a traveler from an antique land,
Who said--
"Two vast and trunkless legs
of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them,
on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies,
whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of
cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those
passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these
lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart
that fed.
And on the pedestal, these words
appear:
'My name is Ozymandias! King
of Kings!
Look on my works, ye mighty, and
despair!'
Nothing beside remains.
Round the decay of that colossal wreck,
boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch
far away."
I memorized this poem at the beginning of the school year in order to write it on my first World History test. This was in part because we had covered Egypt largely during the unit, but it was also a preface to the rest of the course because of the themes the poem expresses. Shelley wrote this poem following the announcement of the uncovering of the
Younger Memnon, based upon the account of Diodorus Siculus of what was written on the statue's pedestal. The poem has a major focus on wonder and grandiosity, and seems to suggest that this is folly. However, it hints more at Ozymandias's own hand in the deterioration of his empire -- that he had as much a part in it returning to the "lone and level sands" as he did in constructing it in the first place. Because of this, it is more of a cautionary tale, warning the reader against becoming so caught up in what they do that it becomes all they are, for doing so would surely mean disaster at the sight of any minor upset.
I usually find myself quoting this in discussions about GPAs and college applications. My friends tend to get so caught up in maintaining a good outward appearance that they forget to look inward, and I know many who have been rejected by the colleges they wanted simply because they had no depth. Of course, their plans have come to nothing, and it seems like the end of a long-standing civilization, such as the one in the poem. They then become the traveler the speaker of the poem once met, who lived in the shadows of the past for some time before somehow actually
travelling in order for this exchange to happen in the first place.
These travelers, through losing their greatness, have set out on their "beautiful journey", and will one day reach their respective Ithacas should their souls not set up before them the idea of failure.
See, I told you this was basically just English class.
