The Nimzo-Indian Defence NEW EDITION by Svetozar Gligoric, Cadogan Pergamon 1993
- ISBN 1 85744 009 9

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"The words of truth are simple." ― Aeschylus

"It is only after our basic needs for food and shelter have been met that we can hope to enjoy the luxury of theoretical speculations." ― Aristotle.

John 14:6
"<I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me.>" ― Jesus Christ

"Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned." ― Buddha

"No legacy is so rich as honesty." ― William Shakespeare

"Of chess it has been said that life is not long enough for it, but that is the fault of life, not chess." ― William Napier / Irving Chernev

"Winning needs no explanation, losing has no alibi." ― Greg Baum.

"A determined soul will do more with a rusty monkey wrench than a loafer will accomplish with all the tools in a machine shop." ― Robert Hughes

"Chess is a fairy tale of 1,001 blunders." ― Savielly Tartakower

"Pawns are the soul of the game." ― François-André Danican Philidor

"The king pawn and the queen pawn are the only ones to be moved in the early part of the game." ― Wilhelm Steinitz

"I believe that it is best to know a 'dubious' opening really well, rather than a 'good' opening only slightly." ― Simon Williams

"There is no such thing as an absolutely freeing move. A freeing move in a position in which development has not been carried far always proves illusory, and vice versa, a move which does not come at all in the category of freeing moves can, given a surplus of tempi to our credit, lead to a very free game." ― Aron Nimzowitsch

"You may knock your opponent down with the chessboard, but that does not prove you the better player." ― English Proverb

"For a period of ten years--between 1946 and 1956--Reshevsky was probably the best chessplayer in the world. I feel sure that had he played a match with Botvinnik during that time he would have won and been World Champion." ― Bobby Fischer

"I believe that true beauty of chess is more than enough to satisfy all possible demands." ― Alexander Alekhine

"We cannot resist the fascination of sacrifice, since a passion for sacrifices is part of a chessplayer's nature." ― Rudolf Spielmann

"To play for a draw, at any rate with white, is to some degree a crime against chess." ― Mikhail Tal

"Boring? Who's boring? I am Fredthebear. My mind is always active, busy."

Capa's games looked as though they were turned out by a lathe, while Alekhine's resembled something produced with a mallet and chisel. – Charles Yaffe

Whereas Anderssen and Chigorin looked for accidental positions, Capablanca is guided by the logicality of strong positions. He values only that which is well-founded: solidity of position, pressure on a weak point, he does not trust the accidental, even if it be a problem-like mate, at the required moment he discovers and carries out subtle and far-sighted combinations... - Emanuel Lasker

Capablanca possessed an amazing ability to quickly see into a position and intuitively grasp its main features. His style, one of the purest, most crystal-clear in the entire history of chess, astonishes one with its logic. - Garry Kasparov

"Chess is an infinitely complex game, which one can play in infinitely numerous and varied ways." ― Vladimir Kramnik

"It's all to do with the training: you can do a lot if you're properly trained." ― Queen Elizabeth II

"The future reshapes the memory of the past in the way it recalibrates significance: some episodes are advanced, others lose purchase." ― Gregory Maguire, A Lion Among Men

"Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword obviously never encountered automatic weapons." ― Douglas MacArthur

"Old habits die hard, especially for soldiers." ― Jocelyn Murray, The Roman General: A Novel

"In chess, as in life, a man is his own most dangerous opponent." — Vasily Smyslov

Ye Jiangchuan has won the Chinese Chess Championship seven times.

Matthew 17:20
Our faith can move mountains.

Other people's wisdom prevents the king from being called a fool. ~ Nigerian Proverb

Knowledge without wisdom is like water in the sand. ~ Guinean Proverb

Ingratitude is sooner or later fatal to its author. ~ Twi Proverb

The laughter of a child lights up the house. ~ Swahili proverb

"Win with grace, lose with dignity!" ― Susan Polgar

"What does it take to be a champion? Desire, dedication, determination, personal and professional discipline, focus, concentration, strong nerves, the will to win, and yes, talent!" ― Susan Polgar

"No matter how successful you are (or will be), never ever forget the people who helped you along the way, and pay it forward! Don't become arrogant and conceited just because you gained a few rating points or made a few bucks. Stay humble and be nice, especially to your fans!" ― Susan Polgar

All that glitters is not gold – this line can be found in a text from c.1220: ‘ Nis hit nower neh gold al that ter schineth.'

A friend in need is a friend indeed – a proverb from c.1035 say this: ‘Friend shall be known in time of need.'

All's well that ends well – a line from the mid-13th century is similar: ‘Wel is him te wel ende mai.' Meanwhile, Henry Knighton's Chronicle from the late 14th-century one can read: ‘ If the ende be wele, than is alle wele.'

Hay dos maneras de hermosura: una del alma y otra del cuerpo; la del alma campea y se muestra en el entendimiento, en la honestidad, en el buen proceder, en la liberalidad y en la buena crianza, y todas estas partes caben y pueden estar en un hombre feo; y cuando se pone la mira en esta hermosura, y no en la del cuerpo, suele nacer el amor con ímpetu y con ventajas. (There are two kinds of beauty: one of the soul and the other of the body; that of the soul shows and demonstrates itself in understanding, in honesty, in good behavior, in generosity and in good breeding, and all these things can find room and exist in an ugly man; and when one looks at this type of beauty, and not bodily beauty, love is inclined to spring up forcefully and overpoweringly.) ― Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547-1616)

Cuando una puerta se cierra, otra se abre. (When one door is closed, another is opened.) ― Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547-1616)

Dijo la sartén a la caldera, quítate allá ojinegra. (The frying pan said to the cauldron, "Get out of here, black-eyed one." This is believed to be the source of the phrase "the pot calling the kettle black.") ― Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

* One of Pandolfini's Best: Game Collection: Solitaire Chess by Bruce Pandolfini

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* The Unthinkable: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9z...

* World Chess Championship History: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkO...

Connecticut: Windsor
Established in: 1633

Windsor was Connecticut's first English settlement, with a perfect location on the water. Today, the city uses its "first town" status to create a historical atmosphere ideal for tourism.

* Chess History: https://www.uschesstrust.org/chess-...

The Kings of Chess: A History of Chess, Traced Through the Lives of Its Greatest Players by William Hartston William Hartson traces the development of the game from its Oriental origins to the present day through the lives of its greatest exponents - men like Howard Staunton, who transformed what had been a genteel pastime into a competitive science; the brilliant American Paul Morphy, who once played a dozen simultaneous games blindfold; the arrogant and certified insane Wilhelm Steinitz; the philosopher and mathematician Emanual Lasker; Bobby Fischer, perhaps the most brilliant and eccentric of them all; and many other highly gifted individuals. Hartson depicts all their colorful variety with a wealth of rare illustrations.

Format: Hardcover
Language: English
ISBN: 006015358X
ISBN13: 9780060153588
Release Date: January 1985
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Length: 192 Pages
Weight: 1.80 lbs.

Eilfan ywmodryb dda
Meaning: A good aunt is a second mother

The Frog and the Rat

They to bamboozle are inclined,
Says Merlin, who bamboozled are.
The word, though rather unrefined,
Has yet an energy we ill can spare;
So by its aid I introduce my tale.
A well-fed rat, rotund and hale,
Not knowing either Fast or Lent,
Disporting round a frog-pond went.
A frog approached, and, with a friendly greeting, Invited him to see her at her home, And pledged a dinner worth his eating, –
To which the rat was nothing loath to come.
Of words persuasive there was little need:
She spoke, however, of a grateful bath;
Of sports and curious wonders on their path;
Of rarities of flower, and rush, and reed:
One day he would recount with glee
To his assembled progeny
The various beauties of these places,
The customs of the various races,
And laws that sway the realms aquatic,
(She did not mean the hydrostatic!)
One thing alone the rat perplexed, –
He was but moderate as a swimmer.
The frog this matter nicely fixed
By kindly lending him her
Long paw, which with a rush she tied
To his; and off they started, side by side.
Arrived on the lakelet's brink,
There was but little time to think.
The frog leaped in, and almost brought her
Bound guest to land beneath the water.
Perfidious breach of law and right!
She meant to have a supper warm
Out of his sleek and dainty form.
Already did her appetite
Dwell on the morsel with delight.
The gods, in anguish, he invokes;
His faithless hostess rudely mocks;
He struggles up, she struggles down.
A kite, that hovers in the air,
Inspecting everything with care,
Now spies the rat belike to drown,
And, with a rapid wing,
Upbears the wretched thing,
The frog, too, dangling by the string!
The joy of such a double haul
Was to the hungry kite not small.
It gave him all that he could wish –
A double meal of flesh and fish.

The best contrived deceit
Can hurt its own contriver,
And perfidy does often cheat
Its author's purse of every stiver.

Chessgames.com will be unavailable October 13, 2023 from 11:30AM through 11:45AM(UTC/GMT) for maintenance. We apologize for this inconvenience.

"One more dance along the razor's edge finished. Almost dead yesterday, maybe dead tomorrow, but alive, gloriously alive, today." ― Robert Jordan, Lord of Chaos

"Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude." ― Denis Waitley

"Happiness depends upon ourselves." —Aristotle

Psalm 31:24
Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord!

"The wind cannot defeat a tree with strong roots." — The Revenant

* Beauty Prize: Game Collection: Les Prix de Beauté aux Echecs (I)

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* Katar's Repertoire: Game Collection: An Opium Repertoire for White

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* Pretzels? Game Collection: Special Pretzel Collection

* Sicilian Wingers: Game Collection: wing gambit victories

* Ray Keene's favorite games: Game Collection: ray keene's favorite games

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* elmubarak: my fav games: Game Collection: elmubarak: my fav games

* Assorted good games: Game Collection: assorted Good games

* The are exceptions: https://academicchess.com/worksheet...

* Black Defends: Game Collection: Opening repertoire black

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* Flip the Finish: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWH...

* 21st Century: Game Collection: 21st Century Masterpieces - First decade (2000)

* GK: Game Collection: Kasparov - The Sicilian Sheveningen

* Can you whip Taimanov's Sicilian? http://www.chessgames.com/perl/ches...

* Bg2 vs Sicilian: Game Collection: Grand Prix Attack without early Bc4

* Mr. Harvey's Puzzle Challenge: https://wtharvey.com/

WTHarvey:
There once was a website named WTHarvey,
Where chess puzzles did daily delay,
The brain-teasers so tough,
They made us all huff and puff,
But solving them brought us great satisfaction today.

There once was a website named WTHarvey
Where chess puzzles were quite aplenty
With knight and rook and pawn
You'll sharpen your brain with a yawn
And become a master of chess entry

There once was a site for chess fun,
Wtharvey.com was the chosen one,
With puzzles galore,
It'll keep you in store,
For hours of brain-teasing, none done.

There once was a website named WTHarvey,
Where chess puzzles were posted daily,
You'd solve them with glee,
And in victory,
You'd feel like a true chess prodigy!

'A rising tide lifts all boats'

'Don't put the cart before the horse'

Create protected outposts for your knights.

<There are distinct situations where a bishop is preferred (over a knight). For example, two bishops are better than two knights or one of each. Steven Mayer, the author of Bishop Versus Knight, contends, "A pair of bishops is usually considered to be worth six points, but common sense suggests that a pair of active bishops (that are very involved in the formation) must be accorded a value of almost nine under some circumstances." This is especially true if the player can plant the bishops in the center of the board, as two bishops working in tandem can span up to 26 squares and have the capacity to touch every square.

Bishops are also preferable to knights when queens have been exchanged because, Grandmaster Sergey Erenburg, who is ranked 11th in the U.S., explains, "Bishops and rooks complement each other, and when well-coordinated, act as a queen." Conversely, a knight is the preferred minor piece when the queen survives until the late-middlegame or the endgame. Mayer explains, "The queen and knight are able to work together smoothly and create a greater number of threats than the queen and bishop."

When forced to say one is better than the other, most anoint the bishop. Mayer concludes, "I think it's true that the bishops are better than the knights in a wider variety of positions than the knights are better than the bishops."

He continues, "Of course, I'm not sure this does us much good, as we only get to play one position at a time.">

The Triumph of Life
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Swift as a spirit hastening to his task
Of glory & of good, the Sun sprang forth
Rejoicing in his splendour, & the mask
Of darkness fell from the awakened Earth.
The smokeless altars of the mountain snows
Flamed above crimson clouds, & at the birth
Of light, the Ocean's orison arose
To which the birds tempered their matin lay,
All flowers in field or forest which unclose
Their trembling eyelids to the kiss of day,
Swinging their censers in the element,
With orient incense lit by the new ray
Burned slow & inconsumably, & sent
Their odorous sighs up to the smiling air,
And in succession due, did Continent,
Isle, Ocean, & all things that in them wear
The form & character of mortal mould
Rise as the Sun their father rose, to bear
Their portion of the toil which he of old
Took as his own & then imposed on them;
But I, whom thoughts which must remain untold
Had kept as wakeful as the stars that gem
The cone of night, now they were laid asleep,
Stretched my faint limbs beneath the hoary stem
Which an old chestnut flung athwart the steep
Of a green Apennine: before me fled
The night; behind me rose the day; the Deep
Was at my feet, & Heaven above my head
When a strange trance over my fancy grew
Which was not slumber, for the shade it spread
Was so transparent that the scene came through
As clear as when a veil of light is drawn
O'er evening hills they glimmer; and I knew
That I had felt the freshness of that dawn,
Bathed in the same cold dew my brow & hair
And sate as thus upon that slope of lawn
Under the self same bough, & heard as there
The birds, the fountains & the Ocean hold
Sweet talk in music through the enamoured air.
And then a Vision on my brain was rolled.

As in that trance of wondrous thought I lay
This was the tenour of my waking dream.
Methought I sate beside a public way
Thick strewn with summer dust, & a great stream
Of people there was hurrying to & fro
Numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam,
All hastening onward, yet none seemed to know
Whither he went, or whence he came, or why
He made one of the multitude, yet so
Was borne amid the crowd as through the sky
One of the million leaves of summer's bier.— Old age & youth, manhood & infancy,
Mixed in one mighty torrent did appear,
Some flying from the thing they feared & some
Seeking the object of another's fear,
And others as with steps towards the tomb
Pored on the trodden worms that crawled beneath, And others mournfully within the gloom
Of their own shadow walked, and called it death … And some fled from it as it were a ghost,
Half fainting in the affliction of vain breath.
But more with motions which each other crost
Pursued or shunned the shadows the clouds threw
Or birds within the noonday ether lost,
Upon that path where flowers never grew;
And weary with vain toil & faint for thirst
Heard not the fountains whose melodious dew
Out of their mossy cells forever burst
Nor felt the breeze which from the forest told
Of grassy paths, & wood lawns interspersed
With overarching elms & caverns cold,
And violet banks where sweet dreams brood, but they Pursued their serious folly as of old ….
And as I gazed methought that in the way
The throng grew wilder, as the woods of June
When the South wind shakes the extinguished day.— And a cold glare, intenser than the noon
But icy cold, obscured with blank light
The Sun as he the stars. Like the young moon
When on the sunlit limits of the night
Her white shell trembles amid crimson air
And whilst the sleeping tempest gathers might
Doth, as a herald of its coming, bear
The ghost of her dead Mother, whose dim form
Bends in dark ether from her infant's chair,
So came a chariot on the silent storm
Of its own rushing splendour, and a Shape
So sate within as one whom years deform
Beneath a dusky hood & double cape
Crouching within the shadow of a tomb,
And o'er what seemed the head, a cloud like crape, Was bent a dun & faint etherial gloom
Tempering the light; upon the chariot's beam
A Janus-visaged Shadow did assume
The guidance of that wonder-winged team.
The Shapes which drew it in thick lightnings
Were lost: I heard alone on the air's soft stream The music of their ever moving wings.
All the four faces of that charioteer
Had their eyes banded . . . little profit brings Speed in the van & blindness in the rear,
Nor then avail the beams that quench the Sun
Or that his banded eyes could pierce the sphere
Of all that is, has been, or will be done.—
So ill was the car guided, but it past
With solemn speed majestically on . . .
The crowd gave way, & I arose aghast,
Or seemed to rise, so mighty was the trance,
And saw like clouds upon the thunder blast
The million with fierce song and maniac dance
Raging around; such seemed the jubilee
As when to greet some conqueror's advance
Imperial Rome poured forth her living sea
From senatehouse & prison & theatre
When Freedom left those who upon the free
Had bound a yoke which soon they stooped to bear. Nor wanted here the true similitude
Of a triumphal pageant, for where'er
The chariot rolled a captive multitude
Was driven; althose who had grown old in power
Or misery,—all who have their age subdued,
By action or by suffering, and whose hour
Was drained to its last sand in weal or woe,
So that the trunk survived both fruit & flower;
All those whose fame or infamy must grow
Till the great winter lay the form & name
Of their own earth with them forever low,
All but the sacred few who could not tame
Their spirits to the Conqueror, but as soon
As they had touched the world with living flame
Fled back like eagles to their native noon,
Of those who put aside the diadem
Of earthly thrones or gems, till the last one
Were there;—for they of Athens & Jerusalem
Were neither mid the mighty captives seen
Nor mid the ribald crowd that followed them
Or fled before . . Now swift, fierce & obscene
The wild dance maddens in the van, & those
Who lead it, fleet as shadows on the green,
Outspeed the chariot & without repose
Mix with each other in tempestuous measure
To savage music …. Wilder as it grows,
They, tortured by the agonizing pleasure,
Convulsed & on the rapid whirlwinds spun
Of that fierce spirit, whose unholy leisure
Was soothed by mischief since the world begun,
Throw back their heads & loose their streaming hair, And in their dance round her who dims the Sun
Maidens & youths fling their wild arms in air
As their feet twinkle; they recede, and now
Bending within each other's atmosphere
Kindle invisibly; and as they glow
Like moths by light attracted & repelled,
Oft to new bright destruction come & go.
Till like two clouds into one vale impelled
That shake the mountains when their lightnings mingle And die in rain,—the fiery band which held
Their natures, snaps . . . ere the shock cease to tingle One falls and then another in the path
Senseless, nor is the desolation single,
Yet ere I can say where the chariot hath
Past over them; nor other trace I find
But as of foam after the Ocean's wrath
Is spent upon the desert shore.—Behind,
Old men, and women foully disarrayed
Shake their grey hair in the insulting wind,
Limp in the dance & strain, with limbs decayed,
Seeking to reach the light which leaves them still Farther behind & deeper in the shade.
But not the less with impotence of will
They wheel, though ghastly shadows interpose
Round them & round each other, and fulfill
Their work and to the dust whence they arose
Sink & corruption veils them as they lie
And frost in these performs what fire in those.
Struck to the heart by this sad pageantry,
Half to myself I said, "And what is this?
Whose shape is that within the car? & why"-
I would have added—"is all here amiss?"
But a voice answered . . "Life" . . . I turned & knew (O Heaven have mercy on such wretchedness!)
That what I thought was an old root which grew
To strange distortion out of the hill side
Was indeed one of that deluded crew,
And that the grass which methought hung so wide
And white, was but his thin discoloured hair,
And that the holes it vainly sought to hide
Were or had been eyes.—"lf thou canst forbear To join the dance, which I had well forborne," Said the grim Feature, of my thought aware,
"I will now tell that which to this deep scorn Led me & my companions, and relate
The progress of the pageant since the morn;
"If thirst of knowledge doth not thus abate,
Follow it even to the night, but I
Am weary" . . . Then like one who with the weight Of his own words is staggered, wearily
He paused, and ere he could resume, I cried,
"First who art thou?" . . . "Before thy memory "I feared, loved, hated, suffered, did, & died, And if the spark with which Heaven lit my spirit Earth had with purer nutriment supplied
"Corruption would not now thus much inherit
Of what was once Rousseau—nor this disguise
Stained that within which still disdains to wear it.— "If I have been extinguished, yet there rise
A thousand beacons from the spark I bore."—
"And who are those chained to the car?" "The Wise, "The great, the unforgotten: they who wore
Mitres & helms & crowns, or wreathes of light,
Signs of thought's empire over thought; their lore "Taught them not this—to know themselves; their might Could not repress the mutiny within,
And for the morn of truth they feigned, deep night "Caught them ere evening." "Who is he with chin Upon his breast and hands crost on his chain?" "The Child of a fierce hour; he sought to win
"The world, and lost all it did contain
Of greatness, in its hope destroyed; & more
Of fame & peace than Virtue's self can gain
"Without the opportunity which bore
Him on its eagle's pinion to the peak
From which a thousand climbers have before
"Fall'n as Napoleon fell."—I felt my cheek Alter to see the great form pass away
Whose grasp had left the giant world so weak
That every pigmy kicked it as it lay—
And much I grieved to think how power & will
In opposition rule our mortal day—
And why God made irreconcilable
Good & the means of good; and for despair
I half disdained mine eye's desire to fill
With the spent vision of the times that were
And scarce have ceased to be . . . "Dost thou behold," Said then my guide, "those spoilers spoiled, Voltaire, "Frederic, & Kant, Catherine, & Leopold,
Chained hoary anarch, demagogue & sage
Whose name the fresh world thinks already old— "For in the battle Life & they did wage
She remained conqueror—I was overcome
By my own heart alone, which neither age
"Nor tears nor infamy nor now the tomb
Could temper to its object."—"Let them pass"— I cried—"the world & its mysterious doom
"Is not so much more glorious than it was
That I desire to worship those who drew
New figures on its false & fragile glass
"As the old faded."—"Figures ever new
Rise on the bubble, paint them how you may;
We have but thrown, as those before us threw,
"Our shadows on it as it past away.
But mark, how chained to the triumphal chair
The mighty phantoms of an elder day—
"All that is mortal of great Plato there
Expiates the joy & woe his master knew not;
That star that ruled his doom was far too fair— "And Life, where long that flower of Heaven grew not, Conquered the heart by love which gold or pain
Or age or sloth or slavery could subdue not—
"And near blank walk the blank twain,
The tutor & his pupil, whom Dominion
Followed as tame as vulture in a chain.—
"The world was darkened beneath either pinion
Of him whom from the flock of conquerors
Fame singled as her thunderbearing minion;
"The other long outlived both woes & wars,
Throned in new thoughts of men, and still had kept The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors
"If Bacon's spirit blank had not leapt
Like lightning out of darkness; he compelled
The Proteus shape of Nature's as it slept
"To wake & to unbar the caves that held
The treasure of the secrets of its reign—
See the great bards of old who inly quelled
"The passions which they sung, as by their strain May well be known: their living melody
Tempers its own contagion to the vein
"Of those who are infected with it—I
Have suffered what I wrote, or viler pain!—
"And so my words were seeds of misery—
Even as the deeds of others."—"Not as theirs," I said—he pointed to a company
In which I recognized amid the heirs
Of Caesar's crime from him to Constantine,
The Anarchs old whose force & murderous snares
Had founded many a sceptre bearing line
And spread the plague of blood & gold abroad,
And Gregory & John and men divine
Who rose like shadows between Man & god
Till that eclipse, still hanging under Heaven,
Was worshipped by the world o'er which they strode For the true Sun it quenched.—"Their power was given But to destroy," replied the leader—"I
Am one of those who have created, even
"If it be but a world of agony."—
"Whence camest thou & whither goest thou?
How did thy course begin," I said, "& why?
"Mine eyes are sick of this perpetual flow
Of people, & my heart of one sad thought.—
Speak."—"Whence I came, partly I seem to know, "And how & by what paths I have been brought
To this dread pass, methinks even thou mayst guess; Why this should be my mind can compass not;
"Whither the conqueror hurries me still less.
But follow thou, & from spectator turn
Actor or victim in this wretchedness,
"And what thou wouldst be taught I then may learn From thee.—Now listen . . . In the April prime When all the forest tops began to burn
"With kindling green, touched by the azure clime Of the young year, I found myself asleep
Under a mountain which from unknown time
"Had yawned into a cavern high & deep,
And from it came a gentle rivulet
Whose water like clear air in its calm sweep
"Bent the soft grass & kept for ever wet
The stems of the sweet flowers, and filled the grove With sound which all who hear must needs forget
"All pleasure & all pain, all hate & love,
Which they had known before that hour of rest:
A sleeping mother then would dream not of
"The only child who died upon her breast
At eventide, a king would mourn no more
The crown of which his brow was dispossest
"When the sun lingered o'er the Ocean floor
To gild his rival's new prosperity.—
Thou wouldst forget thus vainly to deplore
"Ills, which if ills, can find no cure from thee, The thought of which no other sleep will quell
Nor other music blot from memory—
"So sweet & deep is the oblivious spell.—
Whether my life had been before that sleep
The Heaven which I imagine, or a Hell
"Like this harsh world in which I wake to weep, I know not. I arose & for a space
The scene of woods & waters seemed to keep,
"Though it was now broad day, a gentle trace
Of light diviner than the common Sun
Sheds on the common Earth, but all the place
"Was filled with many sounds woven into one
Oblivious melody, confusing sense
Amid the gliding waves & shadows dun;
"And as I looked the bright omnipresence
Of morning through the orient cavern flowed,
And the Sun's image radiantly intense
"Burned on the waters of the well that glowed
Like gold, and threaded all the forest maze
With winding paths of emerald fire—there stood "Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze
Of his own glory, on the vibrating
Floor of the fountain, paved with flashing rays, "A shape all light, which with one hand did fling Dew on the earth, as if she were the Dawn
Whose invisible rain forever seemed to sing
"A silver music on the mossy lawn,
And still before her on the dusky grass
Iris her many coloured scarf had drawn.—
"In her right hand she bore a crystal glass
Mantling with bright Nepenthe;—the fierce splendour Fell from her as she moved under the mass
"Of the deep cavern, & with palms so tender
Their tread broke not the mirror of its billow,
Glided along the river, and did bend her
"Head under the dark boughs, till like a willow Her fair hair swept the bosom of the stream
That whispered with delight to be their pillow.— "As one enamoured is upborne in dream
O'er lily-paven lakes mid silver mist
To wondrous music, so this shape might seem
"Partly to tread the waves with feet which kist The dancing foam, partly to glide along
The airs that roughened the moist amethyst,
"Or the slant morning beams that fell among
The trees, or the soft shadows of the trees;
And her feet ever to the ceaseless song
"Of leaves & winds & waves & birds & bees
And falling drops moved in a measure new
Yet sweet, as on the summer evening breeze
"Up from the lake a shape of golden dew
Between two rocks, athwart the rising moon,
Moves up the east, where eagle never flew.—
"And still her feet, no less than the sweet tune To which they moved, seemed as they moved, to blot The thoughts of him who gazed on them, & soon
"All that was seemed as if it had been not,
As if the gazer's mind was strewn beneath
Her feet like embers, & she, thought by thought, "Trampled its fires into the dust of death,
As Day upon the threshold of the east
Treads out the lamps of night, until the breath
"Of darkness reillumines even the least
Of heaven's living eyes—like day she came,
Making the night a dream; and ere she ceased
"To move, as one between desire and shame
Suspended, I said—'If, as it doth seem,
Thou comest from the realm without a name,
" ‘Into this valley of perpetual dream,
Shew whence I came, and where I am, and why—
Pass not away upon the passing stream.'
" ‘Arise and quench thy thirst,' was her reply, And as a shut lily, stricken by the wand
Of dewy morning's vital alchemy,
"I rose; and, bending at her sweet command,
Touched with faint lips the cup she raised,
And suddenly my brain became as sand
"Where the first wave had more than half erased The track of deer on desert Labrador,
Whilst the fierce wolf from which they fled amazed "Leaves his stamp visibly upon the shore
Until the second bursts—so on my sight
Burst a new Vision never seen before.—
"And the fair shape waned in the coming light
As veil by veil the silent splendour drops
From Lucifer, amid the chrysolite
"Of sunrise ere it strike the mountain tops— And as the presence of that fairest planet
Although unseen is felt by one who hopes
"That his day's path may end as he began it
In that star's smile, whose light is like the scent Of a jonquil when evening breezes fan it,
"Or the soft note in which his dear lament
The Brescian shepherd breathes, or the caress
That turned his weary slumber to content.—
"So knew I in that light's severe excess
The presence of that shape which on the stream
Moved, as I moved along the wilderness,
"More dimly than a day appearing dream,
The ghost of a forgotten form of sleep
A light from Heaven whose half extinguished beam "Through the sick day in which we wake to weep Glimmers, forever sought, forever lost.—
So did that shape its obscure tenour keep
"Beside my path, as silent as a ghost;
But the new Vision, and its cold bright car,
With savage music, stunning music, crost
"The forest, and as if from some dread war
Triumphantly returning, the loud million
Fiercely extolled the fortune of her star.—
"A moving arch of victory the vermilion
And green & azure plumes of Iris had
Built high over her wind-winged pavilion,
"And underneath aetherial glory clad
The wilderness, and far before her flew
The tempest of the splendour which forbade
Shadow to fall from leaf or stone;—the crew
Seemed in that light like atomies that dance
Within a sunbeam.—Some upon the new
"Embroidery of flowers that did enhance
The grassy vesture of the desart, played,
Forgetful of the chariot's swift advance;
"Others stood gazing till within the shade
Of the great mountain its light left them dim.— Others outspeeded it, and others made
"Circles around it like the clouds that swim
Round the high moon in a bright sea of air,
And more did follow, with exulting hymn,
"The chariot & the captives fettered there,
But all like bubbles on an eddying flood
Fell into the same track at last & were
"Borne onward.—I among the multitude
Was swept; me sweetest flowers delayed not long, Me not the shadow nor the solitude,
"Me not the falling stream's Lethean song,
Me, not the phantom of that early form
Which moved upon its motion,—but among
"The thickest billows of the living storm
I plunged, and bared my bosom to the clime
Of that cold light, whose airs too soon deform.— "Before the chariot had begun to climb
The opposing steep of that mysterious dell,
Behold a wonder worthy of the rhyme
"Of him whom from the lowest depths of Hell
Through every Paradise & through all glory
Love led serene, & who returned to tell
"In words of hate & awe the wondrous story
How all things are transfigured, except Love;
For deaf as is a sea which wrath makes hoary
"The world can hear not the sweet notes that move The sphere whose light is melody to lovers—-
A wonder worthy of his rhyme—the grove
"Grew dense with shadows to its inmost covers, The earth was grey with phantoms, & the air
Was peopled with dim forms, as when there hovers "A flock of vampire-bats before the glare
Of the tropic sun, bring ere evening
Strange night upon some Indian isle,—thus were "Phantoms diffused around, & some did fling
Shadows of shadows, yet unlike themselves,
Behind them, some like eaglets on the wing
"Were lost in the white blaze, others like elves Danced in a thousand unimagined shapes
Upon the sunny streams & grassy shelves;
"And others sate chattering like restless apes On vulgar paws and voluble like fire.
Some made a cradle of the ermined capes
"Of kingly mantles, some upon the tiar
Of pontiffs sate like vultures, others played
Within the crown which girt with empire
"A baby's or an idiot's brow, & made
Their nests in it; the old anatomies
Sate hatching their bare brood under the shade
"Of demon wings, and laughed from their dead eyes To reassume the delegated power
Arrayed in which these worms did monarchize
"Who make this earth their charnel.—Others more Humble, like falcons sate upon the fist
Of common men, and round their heads did soar,
"Or like small gnats & flies, as thick as mist On evening marshes, thronged about the brow
Of lawyer, statesman, priest & theorist,
"And others like discoloured flakes of snow
On fairest bosoms & the sunniest hair
Fell, and were melted by the youthful glow
"Which they extinguished; for like tears, they were A veil to those from whose faint lids they rained In drops of sorrow.—I became aware
"Of whence those forms proceeded which thus stained The track in which we moved; after brief space
From every form the beauty slowly waned,
"From every firmest limb & fairest face
The strength & freshness fell like dust, & left
The action & the shape without the grace
"Of life; the marble brow of youth was cleft
With care, and in the eyes where once hope shone Desire like a lioness bereft
"Of its last cub, glared ere it died; each one Of that great crowd sent forth incessantly
These shadows, numerous as the dead leaves blown "In Autumn evening from a popular tree—
Each, like himself & like each other were,
At first, but soon distorted, seemed to be
"Obscure clouds moulded by the casual air;
And of this stuff the car's creative ray
Wrought all the busy phantoms that were there
"As the sun shapes the clouds—thus, on the way Mask after mask fell from the countenance
And form of all, and long before the day
"Was old, the joy which waked like Heaven's glance The sleepers in the oblivious valley, died,
And some grew weary of the ghastly dance
"And fell, as I have fallen by the way side,
Those soonest from whose forms most shadows past And least of strength & beauty did abide."—
"Then, what is Life?" I said . . . the cripple cast His eye upon the car which now had rolled
Onward, as if that look must be the last,
And answered …. "Happy those for whom the fold Of …

"Life is fun. It's all up to the person. Be satisfied. You don't have to be ‘happy' all the time, you need to be satisfied." — Lucille Boston Lewis, eternal optimist 101 years old

"A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away." — Dr. Boyce

"He who imagines himself capable should attempt to perform. Neither originality counts, nor criticism of another's work. It is not courage, nor self-confidence, nor a sense of superiority that tells. Performance alone is the test." — Emanuel Lasker

Machgielis "Max" Euwe
Fifth World Chess Champion from 1935 to 1937
Birthdate: May 20, 1901
Birthplace: Amsterdam, Netherlands
Died: November 26, 1981
Max Euwe scripted history when he became the first chess Grandmaster from the Netherlands. A PhD in math, he also taught both math and computer programming, apart from publishing a mathematical analysis of chess. A chess world champion, he also served as the president of FIDE.

greersome wrote:

There once was a woman from Mizes

Who had chess sets of two different sizes

One was quite small

Almost nothing at all

But the other was large and won prizes!

"For a period of ten years--between 1946 and 1956--Reshevsky was probably the best chessplayer in the world. I feel sure that had he played a match with Botvinnik during that time he would have won and been World Champion." ― Bobby Fischer

Oct-04-23 HeMateMe: I play 3/2 blitz occasionally on Lichess. I find it an excellent site, none of the delays/cancellations that ruined chess.com (for me). Oct-04-23 Cassandro: Yes, lichess is by far the best site for online chess. And you never know, apparently you may even get to play against a living legend like the highly esteemed Leonard Barden there!

FTB plays all about but has always been happy with FICS: https://www.freechess.org/

Mark 3:25 And if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand.

Drive sober or get pulled over.

"For surely of all the drugs in the world, chess must be the most permanently pleasurable." — Assiac

Once I asked Pillsbury whether he used any formula for castling. He said his rule was absolute and vital: castle because you will or because you must; but not because you can.' — W.E. Napier (1881-1952)

The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1807-1882

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

"Believe in yourself. Have faith in your abilities. Without humble but reasonable confidence in your own powers, you cannot be successful or happy." ― Norman Vincent Peale

"Intelligence plus character-that is the goal of true education." ― Martin Luther King Jr.

"My concern about my reputation is with the people who I respect and my family and my Lord. And I'm perfectly comfortable with my reputation with them, sir." —John Durham

pages 24-25 of The Year Book of the United States Chess Federation 1944 (Chicago, 1945), which published ‘Brave Heart', Anthony Santasiere's tribute to Frank J. Marshall. Written in August 1942 for Marshall's 65th birthday, it began:

Brave Heart –
We salute you!
Knowing neither gain nor loss,
Nor fear, nor hate –;
But only this –
To fight – to fight –
And to love.

Santasiere then gushes on in a similar vein for another 40 lines or so, and we pick up the encomium for its final verse:

For this – dear Frank –
We thank you.
For this – dear Frank –
We love you!
Brave heart –
Brave heart –
We love you!

The Old Woman And Her Two Servants

A beldam kept two spinning maids,
Who plied so handily their trades,
Those spinning sisters down below
Were bunglers when compared with these.
No care did this old woman know
But giving tasks as she might please.
No sooner did the god of day
His glorious locks enkindle,
Than both the wheels began to play,
And from each whirling spindle
Forth danced the thread right merrily,
And back was coiled unceasingly.
Soon as the dawn, I say, its tresses showed,
A graceless cock most punctual crowed.
The beldam roused, more graceless yet,
In greasy petticoat bedight,
Struck up her farthing light,
And then forthwith the bed beset,
Where deeply, blessedly did snore
Those two maid-servants tired and poor.
One oped an eye, an arm one stretched,
And both their breath most sadly fetched,
This threat concealing in the sigh –
"That cursed cock shall surely die!"
And so he did: they cut his throat,
And put to sleep his rousing note.
And yet this murder mended not
The cruel hardship of their lot;
For now the twain were scarce in bed
Before they heard the summons dread.
The beldam, full of apprehension
Lest oversleep should cause detention,
Ran like a goblin through her mansion.
Thus often, when one thinks
To clear himself from ill,
His effort only sinks
Him in the deeper still.
The beldam, acting for the cock,
Was Scylla for Charybdis" rock.

Old Russian Proverb: "Measure seven times, cut once. (Семь раз отмерь — один отрежь.)" Be careful before you do something that cannot be changed.

Riddle: If there are four sheep, two dogs and one herds-men, how many feet are there? Skip down for the answer...

Dionysis1: I had basil on the pub's potage du jour yesterday. Soup herb!

Riddle Answer: Two. Sheep have hooves; dogs have paws; only people have feet.

Q: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? R: It's okay. He woke up.

PinkFaerie5 wrote:
Leopard King Coronation

bird of paradise flew in
briefing the leopard king
a candle was tossed

but isn't he disguised? a pheasant asked
Yes, wearing a butterfly mask
and one of your feathers

the pheasant was pleased
which is why I left, said the bird
I thought he would be wearing my feather

feelings are always being hurt
at coronations of leopard kings
this was no exception

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." ― Martin Luther King Jr.

"Whatever you are doing in the game of life, give it all you've got." — Norman Vincent Peale

"What you do today can improve all your tomorrows." — Ralph Marston

"A wise woman wishes to be no one's enemy; a wise woman refuses to be anyone's victim." — Maya Angelou

wordyfun:
032 rxp Felix Dzagnidze zombd Zelinsky fust NewJzy Zaza Bakgandzhiyo ztecho22 muzio out-of-print scratch, scratch, scratched th rash on hes...

Psalm 96: 1-3
Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth. Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.

Proverbs 3:5-6
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

Ecclesiastes 9:9: "Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun."

LONDON BRIDGE
London Bridge is falling down
Falling down
Falling down
London Bridge is falling down
My Fair Lady.

MFL