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Quote by Virgil

“A festive din now rose and echoed through the palace halls. Lighted lamps hung from the coffered ceiling rich with gold leaf, and torches with high flames prevailed over the night.”

Quote by Virgil

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The Aeneid

The Aeneid is an epic poem written by the ancient Roman poet Virgil. It narrates the journey of Aeneas, a Trojan hero, after the fall of Troy, his travels, and his eventual establishment of the city of Rome. The poem is renowned for its rich symbolism, complex characters, and profound exploration of themes such as fate, duty, and the human condition. more

Author

Virgil
Virgil

Virgil, a Roman poet, was born on October 15, 70 BC and died on September 21, 19 BC. He is one of the greatest poets in ancient Rome and is known for his epic poem, 'The Aeneid'. more

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“At one-thirty in the deep dark morning, the cooking odors blew up through the windy corridors of the house. Down the stairs, one by one, came women in curlers, men in bathrobes, to tiptoe and peer into the kitchen- lit only by fitful gusts of red fire from the hissing stove. And there in the black kitchen at two of a warm summer morning, Grandma floated like an apparition, amidst bangings and clatterings, half blind once more, her fingers groping instinctively in the dimness, shaking out spice clouds over bubbling pots and simmering kettles, her face in the firelight red, magical, and enchanted as she seized and stirred and poured the sublime foods. Quiet, quiet, the boarders laid the best linens and gleaming silver and lit candles rather than switch on electric lights and snap the spell. Grandfather, arriving home from a late evening's work at the printing office, was startled to hear grace being said in the candlelit dining room. As for the food? The meats were deviled, the sauces curried, the greens mounded with sweet butter, the biscuits splashed with jeweled honey; everything toothsome, luscious, and so miraculously refreshing that a gentle lowing broke out as from a pasturage of beasts gone wild in clover. One and all cried out their gratitude for their loose-fitting night clothes.”

“Now this is grand, she thought, the white linen well-pressed, the warm light glimmering from a score of candles, the silver plate polished like mirrors. It was a feast in a picture book, a queen's banquet in a fairy castle. At the centre rose a vast Desert Island molded from sugar-paste, just as Aunt Charlotte had used to make it. A stockade of licorice crowned the peak, and a pathway of pink sugar sand stretched to the shore. The whole was surrounded by a sea of broken jelly, swimming with candied fish. First off, she ate the two tiny sugar castaways from the lookout on her island- very sweet and crisp they were, too. She stood to make a toast. "To you, Jack, my own true love," and took a long draught. Sugarplums next; a whole pyramid to herself, of every color: raspberry, orange, violet, pistachio. She was eating dinner back to front, and she recommended it heartily. Next, her teeth sank into a sticky mass of moonshine jelly- it was good, very good.”

“Sticks and Stones I dreamt a fossil came to life and told a tale of his former wife Did she beat him? Where? She broke his fingers on the stairs And tore out lumps of his orange hair How could she? Then she gave him pride of place At an archaeological feast in his honour A prehistoric horse was the main course! © Stewart Stafford, 2020. All rights reserved.”

“You were right. Food is communal. Mom once told me that it was no accident that Jesus's first miracle was at a wedding. It was a sign that he was the Master of the Feast---and all celebrations involve a feast. Some of the best, most thankful moments of our lives involve food----almost all, really." I tapped Emma, resting on Jane's lap. "You see it in Austen. She only mentions food as a means to bring characters together, reveal aspects of their nature and their moral fiber. Hemingway does the same, though he skews more towards the drinks. Nevertheless, it's never about the food----it's about what the food becomes, in the hands of the giver and the recipient.”

“If you’re a woman who feels called but is still waiting for permission—let the Word of Truth and the Spirit of Truth lead you. Read the Scriptures for yourself. Listen to God’s voice. And then obey God, not man. If God is calling you, that is your permission. Don’t let someone else’s discomfort dilute your fire or keep you from your assignment.”