Tuesday, February 21, 2006

the prince

Regarding how a prince should rule and act, Machiavelli states that in an ideal world, it is virtuous for a prince to be good. But in reality, princes who distance themselves from ethical concerns and do whatever it takes for the benefit of their states rule best. Therefore, it is better to be parsimonious than generous, cruel than loving, crafty than honest. Machiavelli's general rule is to be as good as circumstances allow, but be willing to resort to any means necessary for the good of the state. A feudal prince must be wise in controlling the nobles and keeping the people content. Even fortresses are useless if the prince does not have the support of his people

Friday, February 17, 2006

index at XUnitPatterns.com

index at XUnitPatterns.com: "A site to catalog the good practices in xUnit test automation encountered over the years. It came about as a result of discussions between (Gerard Meszaros) and Shaun Smith about the testing techniques they found themselves using over and over again to solve particular xUnit test automation problems. "

Sunday, February 05, 2006

'If'by Rudyard Kipling

'If'by Rudyard Kipling, famous inspirational poems and quotes: "'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 all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath 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!"

She walks in Beauty. George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. The Oxford Book of English Verse

600. She walks in Beauty. George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. The Oxford Book of English Verse: "George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron. 1788�1824

She walks in Beauty

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light 5
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 10
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 15
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
"

O Captain! My Captain! Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass

193. O Captain! My Captain! Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass: "Walt Whitman (1819�1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

O Captain! My Captain!



1

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather�d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart! 5
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

2

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up�for you the flag is flung�for you the bugle trills; 10
For you bouquets and ribbon�d wreaths�for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck, 15
You�ve fallen cold and dead.

3

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor�d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."