Samuel Hoffenstein

Samuel Hoffenstein (8 October 1890 – 6 October 1947) was a screenwriter and a musical composer. Born in Odessa (now Ukraine), he emigrated to the United States and began a career in New York City as a newspaper writer and in the entertainment business. In 1931 he moved to Los Angeles, where he lived for the rest of his life and wrote the scripts for over thirty movies. Quotes Life Sings a Song (1916) The dead they sleep a long, long sleep; The dead they rest, and their rest is deep; The dead have peace, but the living weep. "Crêpe on the Door" (p. 18) Four of us together dwell— Two from Heaven and two from Hell; Four of us under the selfsame sky— Love and Death and a Dream and I. "A House of Earth" (p. 86) Poems in Praise of Practically Nothing (1928) When trouble drives me into rhyme, Which is two-thirds of all the time, What peace a thought like this can give— Great is the age in which we live! Songs to Break the Tedium, no. 3 (p. 16) Oh, how various is the scene Allowed to Man for his demesne! Verses Demonstrating That No Man Can Be Unhappy (p. 21) When you’re away, I’m restless, lonely, Wretched, bored, dejected; only Here’s the rub, my darling dear, I feel the same when you are here. Poems of Passion, no. 2 (p. 30) You buy some flowers for your table; You tend them tenderly as you’re able; You fetch them water from hither and thither— What thanks do you get for it all? They wither. Poems in Praise of Practically Nothing, no. 1 (p. 53) When the wind is in the tree, It makes a noise just like the sea, As if there were not noise enough To bother one, without that stuff. A Garden of Verses for the Little Ones, no. 13: "The Wind in the Tree" (p. 75) Loyal be to loyal friends; Make them pay you dividends; Work, like the industrious bee, Your friends and foes impartially. A Garden of Verses for the Little Ones, no. 19: "For Little Boys Destined for Big Business" (p. 79) Some folks I know are always worried, That when they die, they will be buried; And some I know are quite elated Because they’re going to be cremated. Songs about Life, no. 3 (p. 90) I’d rather listen to a flute In Gotham, than a band in Butte. Songs about Life, no. 8 (p. 93) The apple grows so bright and high, And ends its days in apple pie. Songs about Life, no. 33 (p. 100) Of all the birds that sing and fly Between the housetops and the sky, The muddy sparrow, mean and small, I like, by far, the best of all. Songs about Life, no. 53 (p. 110) I play with the bulls and the bears; I’m the Bartlett of market quotations. Songs for an Old-Fashioned Lute, no. 6 (p. 123) The stars, like measles, fade at last. The Mimic Muse, no. 5: "Mr. Walter de la Mare Makes the Little Ones Dizzy" (p. 147) Babies haven’t any hair; Old men’s heads are just as bare;— Between the cradle and the grave Lies a haircut and a shave. Songs of Faith in the Year after Next, no. 8 (p. 160) The head that wears a crown may be Inclined to some anxiety, But, on the other hand, I know A derby domes its meed of woe. Songs of Faith in the Year after Next, no. 16 (p. 164) I burned my candle at both ends, And now have neither foes nor friends. Songs of Fairly Utter Despair, no. 8 (p. 193) Cf. Edna St. Vincent Millay, "First Fig" (1922) Breathes there a man with hide so tough Who says two sexes aren’t enough? Love-songs, no. 3 (p. 206) If you love me, as I love you, We'll both be friendly and untrue. Love-songs, no. 8 (p. 207) Your little voice, So soft and kind; Your little soul, Your little mind! Love-songs, no. 13 (pp. 209–10) Year In You're Out (1930) The countless cousins of the Czar, Grand Duke or Duchess, every one, As multitudinous as are The spheres (who borrow from the sun). Invocation (p. 13) Blessings love disguise. Serenades and Songs for a Pent-House Window, no. 3 (p. 68) My soul is dark with stormy riot, Directly traceable to diet. Out of the Everywhere into the Here, no. 13 (p. 92) Which six of the seven cities that claimed Homer were liars? The Moist Land, no. 1: "The Demobilization of the Fleet" (p. 110) Little by little we subtract Faith and Fallacy from Fact, The Illusory from the True, And starve upon the Residue. Rag-Bag, no. 2: "Observation" (p. 122) To You, oh, Goddess of Efficiency, Your happy vassals bend the reverent knee, Save when arthritis, your benighted foe, Sulks in the bones and sourly mumbles "No!" Hymn to Science (p. 144) To all the starry host of Heaven they cried, But had no radio and of course they died. Hymn to Science (p. 145) Smelling like a municipal budget. Entre'acte, no. 6: "And Mr. Carl Sandburg, Dry" (p. 168)              The heart’s dead Are never buried. Summer Day (pp. 183–4) See also Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931 film) The Wizard of Oz (1939 film) Phantom of the Opera (1943 film) Laura (1944 film) External links Category:1890 births Category:1947 deaths Category:Screenwriters from the United States Category:Composers from the United States Category:Jews from the United States Category:Screenwriters from Ukraine Category:Immigrants to the United States Category:People from Odesa