#class

The aristocrats had to force them to do their jobs. After all, human beings are not badgers. We aren't molded to stoop. ↗

— Andrew Rimas Evan D.G. Fraser

#humans #labor #food

As special as it is to listen to your friends argue over whether or not you have a mental illness,I'm starting to get the urge to go back to class. ↗

— Kendare Blake

#friends #friendship #humor #mental-illness #school

i told you he'd freak out, she siad. didn't i? ah, the i told you so, jace said. always a classy move ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#humor #humor

I really don't get nervous when I perform -it's more of an exciting feeling than anything else. But put me in a classroom with kids my age and have me take a test and yeah, I'll be nervous! ↗

— Alexa Vega

#anything #classroom #else #exciting #feeling

If there really is such a thing as turning in one's grave, Shakespeare must get a lot of exercise. ↗

— George Orwell

#classics #drama #interpretation #shakespeare #art

She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B. ↗

— Dorothy Parker

#classic-insult #drama-critic #humor #katharine-hepburn #humor

The best men in all ages keep classic traditions alive. ↗

— George Santayana

#culture #george-santayana #tradition #age

Gormenghast. Withdrawn and ruinous it broods in umbra: the immemorial masonry: the towers, the tracts. Is all corroding? No. Through an avenue of spires a zephyr floats; a bird whistles; a freshet beats away from a choked river. Deep in a fist of stone a doll's hand wriggles, warm rebellious on the frozen palm. A shadow shifts its length. A spider stirs... And darkness winds between the characters. - Gormenghast ↗

— Mervyn Peake

#classic #gormenghast #gothic #literature #art

Had you but seen it, I promise you, your high-minded principles would have melted like candle wax. Never would you have wished such beauty away. ↗

— Jennifer Donnelly

#class-struggle #excess #french-revolution #grandeur #louis-xiv

In Europe life retreats out of the cold, and exquisite fireside myths have resulted—Balder, Persephone—but [in India] the retreat is from the source of life, the treacherous sun, and no poetry adorns it because disillusionment cannot be beautiful. Men yearn for poetry though they may not confess it; they desire that joy shall be graceful and sorrow august and infinity have a form, and India fails to accommodate them. ↗

— E.M. Forster

#prosody #beauty