July 21, 1951 – August 11, 2014
Being a child of the 80’s, I was lucky to grow up during Robin Williams’ golden age.
I remember being about 10 and wanting to go to Hollywood to become an actress so I could be in a movie with this wonderful grown up who acted like a kid and had such a lovely glow in what would otherwise be a very tiny pair of eyes.
As a student of – and passionate about – literature, I hold the Dead Poets Society as the most perfect movie ever made (Williams’ emblematic reading of To the Virgins, to make much of Time introduced me to one of my favourite poets) and it easily became the iconic movie of my generation.
Words and poetry matter. Your voice – however it may sound – matters. Stand upon your desk to see things from a different perspective.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, … and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
I did not wish to live what was not life … . I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.
Walden, Henry David Thoreau
Genius comedian, wise mentor, sinister villain, loving genie.
You were larger than life, O Captain, and so is your legacy.
One thought on “the dead poets generation”
‘O Captain, my Captain.’
A carefully crafted struggling earnestness which clamours to be heard.
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