36 match(es) found in quotations

William Butler Yeats :
What brought them there so far from their home, Cuchulain that fought night long with the foam, What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower? Niamh that rode on it; lad and lass That sat so still and played at the chess? What but heroic wantonness?
[William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Irish poet, playwright. "Alternative Song for the Severed Head in 'The King of the Great Clock Tower'...."]
Read more quotations about / on: home, night
Conrad Aiken :
Rimbaud and Verlaine, precious pair of poets, Genius in both (but what is genius?) playing Chess on a marble table at an inn
[Conrad Aiken (1889-1973), U.S. poet, novelist. Preludes for Memnon; or, Preludes to Attitude (l. 1-4). . . Twentieth Century Poetry; American and British (1900-1970). John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read, eds. (1963, rev. ed., 1970) McGraw-Hill Book Company (text edition entitled The Modern Poets).]
Karl Meninger :
In poker there is, of course, no attempt to disguise the aggressive element. Poker is a fighting game, a game in which each player tries to get the better of every other player and does so by fair means or foul so long as he obeys the rules of the game. He may bluff or lie about his own strength, the object of the game being either to frighten the other players into believing that he has greater strength or else to prove it. Chess is a more highly symbolic game, but the aggressions are therefore even more frankly represented in the play. It probably began as a war game; that is, the representation of a miniature battle between the forces of two kingdoms.
[Karl Meninger (1893-1990), U.S. psychologist. Love Against Hate, ch. 7, Harcourt Brace (1942).]
Read more quotations about / on: strength, war
T.S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot :
And we shall play a game of chess, Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.
[T.S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot (1888-1965), Anglo-American critic, poet. The Waste Land (l. 137-138). . . Norton Anthology of Poetry, The. Alexander W. Allison and others, eds. (3d ed., 1983) W. W. Norton & Company.]
Samar Sudha :
'I'm the Pawn of chess game, whose aim is not to protect the King only but to become the Conqueror.' -Samar Sudha
Herman Melville :
The sailor is frankness, the landsman is finesse. Life is not a game with the sailor, demanding the long head—no intricate game of chess where few moves are made in straight-forwardness and ends are attained by indirection, an oblique, tedious, barren game hardly worth that poor candle burnt out in playing it.
[Herman Melville (1819-1891), U.S. author. Billy Budd, Sailor (posthumous), ch 16, eds. Harrison Hayford and Merton M. Sealts, Jr. (1962).]
Read more quotations about / on: life
Robert Benchley :
But compared with the task of selecting a piece of French pastry held by an impatient waiter a move in chess is like reaching for a salary check in its demand on the contemplative faculties.
[Robert Benchley (1889-1945), U.S. writer, humorist. Chips Off the Old Benchley, "Picking French Pastry; A Harder Game Than Chess," Harper & Brothers (1949).]
George Bernard Shaw :
He hates chess. He says it is a foolish expedient for making idle people believe they are doing something clever when they are only wasting their time.
[George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950), Anglo-Irish playwright, critic. (Written 1885). Marian, in The Irrational Knot, ch. 14, Constable (1950).]
Read more quotations about / on: believe, time, people
Thomas Henry Huxley :
The chess-board is the world; the pieces are the phenomena of the universe; the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us. We know that his play is always fair, just, and patient. But also we know, to our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance.
[Thomas Henry Huxley (1825-1895), British biologist. (Essay originally published 1868). A Liberal Education, Lay Sermons, Addresses, and Reviews (1870).]
Read more quotations about / on: nature, world
Henry Miller :
What have we achieved in mowing down mountain ranges, harnessing the energy of mighty rivers, or moving whole populations about like chess pieces, if we ourselves remain the same restless, miserable, frustrated creatures we were before? To call such activity progress is utter delusion. We may succeed in altering the face of the earth until it is unrecognizable even to the Creator, but if we are unaffected wherein lies the meaning?
[Henry Miller (1891-1980), U.S. author. The World of Sex, pp. 118-119 (1940, repr. 1970).]
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