“I was a little bit disappointed, actually. If you look up cellular automata on one of these computer searching things you'll find that there had been about a hundred papers written about them by 1981 or something, and so I went and looked up a whole bunch of these things, but they were boring. They were so boring! They were an illustration of a sad fact about science, which is that if someone comes up with an original idea, then there will be fifty papers following up on the most boring possible application of the idea, trying to improve on little pieces of details that are completely irrelevant.” - Stephen Wolfram
In Those Years By Adrienne Rich In those years, people will say, we lost track of the meaning of we, of you we found ourselves reduced to I and the whole thing became silly, ironic, terrible: we were trying to live a personal life and, yes, that was the only life we could bear witness to But the great dark birds of history screamed and plunged into our personal weather They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove along the shore, through rages of fog where we stood, saying I
If By Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream---and not make dreams your master; If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: Hold on! If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!
Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850–1894). A Child’s Garden of Verses and Underwoods. 1913. 31. The Lamplighter M Y tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky; It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by; For every night at teatime and before you take your seat, With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street. Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea, 5 And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be; But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I’m to do, O Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you! For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door, And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more; 10 And O! before you hurry by with ladder and with light; O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night! 转自： http://www.bartleby.com/188/131.html 《点灯的人 The Lamplighter》：献给某位去年逝世的老师。
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