Deep in my morning time he made his markAnd still he comes uncalled to be my guideIn devastated regionsWhen the brain has lost its bearings in the darkAnd broken in it’s body’s prideIn the long campaign to which it had sworn allegiance.
selected by Nanobug 2004 Called or uncalled, God is there. ~ Ancient proverb, said to be Spartan, popularized by Carl Jung
Well, personally I think that would be uncalled for.
Cheap music, childish images, the vulgate in language, in its crassest sense, can penetrate to the deeps of our necessities and dreams. It can assert irrevocable tenure there. The opening bars, the hammer-beat accelerando of Edith Piaf's Je ne regrette rien — the text is infantile, the tune stentorian, and the politics which enlisted the song unattractive — tempt every nerve in me, touch the bone with a cold burn and draw me into God knows what infidelities to reason, each time I hear the song, and hear it, uncalled for, recurrent inside me.George Steiner
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