All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.
There could be no honor in sure success, but much might be wrested from a sure defeat.
All men dream...... But not equally..<br/>Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find it is vanity;<br/>but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men,<br/>for they act their dreams with open eyes to make it possible.....
I'm re-reading it with a slow deliberate carelessness.
The people of England have been led in Mesopotamia into a trap from which it will be hard to escape with dignity and honor.
This death's livery which walled its bearers from ordinary life was sign that they have sold their wills and bodies to the State: and contracted themselves into a service not the less abject for that its beginning was voluntary.
An opinion can be argued with; a conviction is best shot. The logical end of a war of creeds is the final destruction of one, and Salammbo is the classical text-book instance.
the sword also means clean-ness death
Men have looked upon the desert as barren land, the free holding of whoever chose; but in fact each hill and valley in it had a man who was its acknowledged owner and would quickly assert the right of his family or clan to it, against aggression.
Isn't it true that the fault of birth rests somewhat on the child? I believe it's we who led our parents on to bear us, and it's our unborn children who make our flesh itch.
To me an unnecessary action, or shot, or casualty, was not only waste but sin.
It seemed that rebellion must have an unassailable base, something guarded not merely from attack, but from the fear of it: such a base as we had in the Red Sea Parts, the desert, or in the minds of the men we converted to our creed.
I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars To gain you Freedom, the seven-pillared worthy house, that your eyes might be shining for me When I came.
Some of the evil of my tale may have been inherent in our circumstances. For years we lived anyhow with one another in the naked desert, under the indifferent heaven.
All the revision in the world will not save a bad first draft: for the architecture of the thing comes, or fails to come, in the first conception, and revision only affects the detail and ornament, alas!