13 Total Quotes

Mark Doren Quotes

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.
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#Educational #Art

The job of the poet is to render the world - to see it and report it without loss, without perversion. No poet ever talks about feelings. Only sentimental people do.
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#Feelings

Memory holds together past and present, gives continuity and dignity to human life... the companion... the tutor, the poet, the library, with which you travel.
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#Dignity

Nothing in man is more serious than his sense of humor; it is the sign that he wants all the truth.
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#Humorous

Wit is the only wall between us and the dark.
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#Wit

To fail to love is not to exist at all.
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#Cute Love #Sweet Love #Love

Bring ideas in and entertain them royally, for one of them may be the king.
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#Ideas

Though we all know that the survival of the species depends on producing children, up until now we haven't understood how germ cells in the developing embryos decide whether to eventually become the sperm or eggs needed later for adult reproduction. Now we know one way these other cells are talking to germ cells about sex.
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#Children

How far is it to peace, the piper sighed, The solitary, sweating as he paused. Asphalt the noon; the ravens, terrified, Fled carrion thunder that percussion caused. The envelope of earth was powder loud; The taut wings shivered, driven at the sun. The piper put his pipe away and bowed. Not here, he said. I hunt the love-cool one, The dancer with the clipped hair. Where is she? We shook our heads, parting for him to pass. Our lady was of no such trim degree, And none of us had seen her face, alas. She was the very ridges that we must scale, Securing the rough top. And how she smiled Was how our strength would issue. Not to fail Was having her, gigantic, undefiled, For homely goddess, big as the world that burned, Grandmother and taskmistress, frild and town. We let the stranger go; but when we turned Our lady lived, fierce in each other's frown.
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#Peace

Listen, The wind is still, And far away in the night -- See! The uplands fill With a running light. Open the doors. It is warm; And where the sky was clear-- Look! The head of a storm That marches here! Come under the trembling hedge-- Fast, although you fumble... There! Did you hear the edge of winter crumble
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#Spring