--- William Ernest Henley, 1875Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tears
It matters not how strait the gate,
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Invictus
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
An over-arching vision
Barry Mazur in his remembrance of Serge Lang mentions:
With my highlighting, I wonder how Mazur would've rendered Lang's vision had he been less charitable and chosen to put it just technically, in all its glory.
With my highlighting, I wonder how Mazur would've rendered Lang's vision had he been less charitable and chosen to put it just technically, in all its glory.
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