What did W. H. Auden mean by: In times of joy, all of us wished we possessed a tail we could wag. - W. H. Auden Poet · England Copy
+ As a rule, it was the pleasure-haters who became unjust. Feraz Zeid, August 9, 2023December 12, 2023, W. H. Auden, Heal, Pleasure, Unjust, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ The center that I cannot find is known to my unconscious mind. Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, W. H. Auden, Mind, Unconscious, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ There was still gold and silver in the mountains, And hunger was a more immediate sorrow Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, W. H. Auden, Gold, Mountain, Sorrow, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ Dance till the stars come down from the rafters Dance, Dance, Dance ’till you drop. Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, W. H. Auden, Dance, Stars, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table. Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, W. H. Auden, Bed, Evil, Tables, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ We are all here on earth to help others. Feraz Zeid, October 26, 2023December 26, 2023, W. H. Auden, Earth, Funny Life, Helping others, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ Pleasure is by no means an infallible critical guide, but it is the least fallible. Feraz Zeid, January 13, 2024January 13, 2024, W. H. Auden, Guides, Pleasure, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
+ A real book is not one that we read, but one that reads us. Feraz Zeid, October 22, 2023December 26, 2023, W. H. Auden, Book, Reading, 0 - W. H. Auden Poet · England
The joy of youth is to disobey; but the trouble is that there are no longer any orders. - Jean Cocteau Artist · France
Art made by the people for the people, as a joy to the maker and the user. - William Morris Designer · England
What makes old age so sad is, not that our joys, but that our hopes then cease. - Jean Paul Writer · Germany
It is not the end of joy that makes old age so sad, but the end of hope. - Jean Paul Writer · Germany
Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm. - Jean Paul Writer · Germany
Like the greatest virtue and the worst dogs, the fiercest hatred is silent. - Jean Paul Writer · Germany
