What are you currently reading?

Started by Francisco Suárez, December 26, 2012, 09:48:56 PM

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Carleendiane

#1890
May 23, 2018, 07:37:03 PM
Now, that sounds interresting, having had a large stroke myself. Would love to read it!
To board the struggle bus: no whining, board with a smile, a fake one will be found out and put off at next stop, no maps, no directions, going only one way, one destination. Follow all rules and you will arrive. Drop off at pearly gate. Bring nothing.

maryslittlegarden

#1891
May 27, 2018, 08:11:48 PM
Drums Along the Mohawk
For a Child is born to us, and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called, Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace

red solo cup

#1892
June 03, 2018, 03:43:40 AM
Alfred The Great: The King and His England by Eleanor Shipley Duckett
non impediti ratione cogitationis

Habitual_Ritual

#1893
June 06, 2018, 08:06:44 AM
The Great Sacrilege:

QuoteIn 1971, amidst the chaos and confusion wrought by the Second Vatican Council and the advent of the Novus Ordo Missae, well-meaning Catholics craved clarity and direction.  A voice of clarity was found in the late Father James Wathen and his book The Great Sacrilege.  Father's love of the true, the good, the beautiful, and the holy shone forth from every page, and he minced no words in his criticism of his fellow clergy or in his analysis of what was at the heart of the New Mass.

In recent years, this great Catholic treatise of monumental significance has become nearly impossible to find, so the Fr. James F. Wathen Foundation is please to announce The Great Sacrilege is finally back in print, with an easier-to-read font and layout. Father's insights into the crisis in the Church and the evil which is at the heart of the New Mass are just as relevant today as they were in 1971.  Order today and rediscover the wit and wisdom of Fr. Wathen.

http://fatherwathen.com/product/the-great-sacrilege/
" There exists now an enormous religious ignorance. In the times since the Council it is evident we have failed to pass on the content of the Faith."

(Pope Benedict XVI speaking in October 2002.)

MilesChristi

#1894
June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

jovan66102

#1895
June 12, 2018, 06:32:40 PM
Puritans' Empire by Charles Coulombe.
Jovan-Marya Weismiller, T.O.Carm.

Vive le Christ-roi! Vive le roi, Louis XX!
Deum timete, regem honorificate.
Kansan by birth! Albertan by choice! Jayhawk by the Grace of God!
"Qui me amat, amet et canem meum. (Who loves me will love my dog also.)" St Bernard of Clairvaux
https://musingsofanoldcurmudgeon.blogspot.com/

Jacob

#1896
June 12, 2018, 09:07:14 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose

Let me know what you think of it.
"Arguing with anonymous strangers on the Internet is a sucker's game because they almost always turn out to be—or to be indistinguishable from—self-righteous sixteen-year-olds possessing infinite amounts of free time."
--Neal Stephenson

MilesChristi

#1897
June 14, 2018, 12:08:57 PM
Quote from: Jacob on June 12, 2018, 09:07:14 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose

Let me know what you think of it.

I loved it actually. Not really all that uplifting, but the plot flows well, and the setting is developed well.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

MilesChristi

#1898
June 14, 2018, 12:09:11 PM
The Art of War
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Sempronius

#1899
June 14, 2018, 02:10:19 PM
Read this a long time ago but wanted to share it

Prisoner of Chillon by Lord Byron

My hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,
As men's have grown from sudden fears:
My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil,
But rusted with a vile repose,
For they have been a dungeon's spoil,
And mine has been the fate of those
To whom the goodly earth and air
Are bann'd, and barr'd—forbidden fare;
But this was for my father's faith
I suffer'd chains and courted death;
That father perish'd at the stake
For tenets he would not forsake;
And for the same his lineal race
In darkness found a dwelling place;
We were seven—who now are one,
Six in youth, and one in age,
Finish'd as they had begun,
Proud of Persecution's rage;
One in fire, and two in field,
Their belief with blood have seal'd,
Dying as their father died,
For the God their foes denied;—
Three were in a dungeon cast,
Of whom this wreck is left the last.


The rest: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43842/the-prisoner-of-chillon

Jacob

#1900
June 14, 2018, 06:54:35 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 14, 2018, 12:08:57 PM
Quote from: Jacob on June 12, 2018, 09:07:14 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose

Let me know what you think of it.

I loved it actually. Not really all that uplifting, but the plot flows well, and the setting is developed well.

Did you read it in two days?  Whoa!  Hat's off to you.
"Arguing with anonymous strangers on the Internet is a sucker's game because they almost always turn out to be—or to be indistinguishable from—self-righteous sixteen-year-olds possessing infinite amounts of free time."
--Neal Stephenson

MilesChristi

#1901
June 14, 2018, 07:09:19 PM
Quote from: Jacob on June 14, 2018, 06:54:35 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 14, 2018, 12:08:57 PM
Quote from: Jacob on June 12, 2018, 09:07:14 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose

Let me know what you think of it.

I loved it actually. Not really all that uplifting, but the plot flows well, and the setting is developed well.

Did you read it in two days?  Whoa!  Hat's off to you.

A bit less than two weeks. Honestly read a couple chapters took a break and finished the rest in four or five days
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

MilesChristi

#1902
June 14, 2018, 07:10:17 PM
Titus Andronicus

(Art of War I, however, started and finished today)
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Maximilian

#1903
June 14, 2018, 08:22:28 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 14, 2018, 12:08:57 PM
Quote from: Jacob on June 12, 2018, 09:07:14 PM
Quote from: MilesChristi on June 12, 2018, 05:49:59 PM
The Name of the Rose

Let me know what you think of it.

I loved it actually. Not really all that uplifting, but the plot flows well, and the setting is developed well.

The monologue at the end is a classic. Very eye-opening too.

abc123

#1904
June 16, 2018, 01:38:12 PM
The Birth of Britain: A History of the English Speaking Peoples by Sir Winston Churchill
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