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You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip
by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by. James M. Barrie |
And though it is much to be a nobleman, it is more to be a gentleman.
~Anthony Trollope |
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." -Ingrid Bergman
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Quoting Shawshank Redemption, "...now I'm gonna pinch a loaf..."
makes me cringe every time I hear it. |
"I don't know what a scoundrel is like, but I know what a respectable man is like, and it's enough to make one's flesh creep."
- Joseph de Maistre |
There is that law of life, so cruel
and so just- that one must grow, or else pay more for remaining the same. Norman Mailer, The Deer Park (1955) |
My Favorite Quote
Jimmy Dugan: Evelyn, could you come here for a second? Which team do you play for?
Evelyn Gardner: Well, I'm a Peach. Jimmy Dugan:Well I was just wonderin' why you would throw home when we got a two-run lead. You let the tying run get on second base and we lost the lead because of you. Start using your head. That's the lump that's three feet above your ass. [Evelyn starts to cry] Jimmy Dugan:Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL! Doris Murphy:Why don't you give her a break, Jimmy... Jimmy Dugan:Oh, you zip it, Doris! Rogers Hornsby was my manager, and he called me a talking pile of pigshit. And that was when my parents drove all the way down from Michigan to see me play the game. And did I cry? Evelyn Gardner:No, no, no. Jimmy Dugan:Yeah! NO. And do you know why? Evelyn Gardner:No... Jimmy Dugan:Because there's no crying in baseball. THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL! No crying! |
"You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses." ~ Unknown
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I want you to feel
the unbearable lack of me. I want your skin to yearn for the soft lure of mine; I want those hints of red on your canvas to deepen in passion for me: carmine, burgundy. I want you to keep stubbing your toe on the memory of me; I want your head to be dizzy and your stomach in a spin; I want you to hear my voice in your ear, to touch your face imagining it is my hand. I want your body to shiver and quiver at the mere idea of mine. I want you to feel as though life after me is dull, and pointless, and very, very aggravating; that with me you were lifted on a current you waited all your life to find, as though you were wading through a soggy swill of inanity and ugliness every minute we are apart. I want you to drive yourself crazy with the fantasy of me, and how we will meet again, against all odds, and there will be tears and flowers, and the vast relief of not I, but us. I am haunting your dreams, conducting these fevers from a distance, a distance that leaves me weeping, and storming, and bereft. |
I love this! Who is the author?
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Yearn On by Katie Donovan Stunning, isn't it? |
"I poured olive oil on my food and rubbed it into my skin. I drank a glass of port wine everyday, and ate about two pounds of chocolate a week." -Jeanne Calment (The longest living person in modern history).
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Diva, this is the one. It's potent.
Entering the Mare by Katie Donovan
(The inauguration of an Irish chieftain, as observed by Gerald of Wales in the 12th century) She stamps and shivers, her white coat vainly shrugging, as the would-be chieftain plunges in, burying deep his puny, acrid man’s seed, between her fragrant haunches. The Goddess lives in her fine rearing head, the pink stretch of her lips, the wide, white-haired nostrils. Her hoof might have crippled him, her tail whipped out his arrogant eyes. Instead she jerks clumsily, trying to escape the smell of his hand. Later he swims in the soup of her flesh, sucking on her bones, chewing the delicate morsels of her hewn body. He has entered the Goddess, slain and swallowed her, and now bathes in her waters – a greedy, hairy, foetus. Rising from her remains in a surge of steam - her stolen momentum – he feels a singing gallop through his veins: a whinnying, mane-flung grace rippling down his spine. Riding off on the wings of the divine Epona, he lets loose his dogs to growl over her skeletal remnants, the bloody pickings in the bottom of his ceremonial bath. |
If people walk in the woods for the love of them half of each day, they are in danger of being regarded as loafers; but if they spend their whole day as speculators, shearing off those woods and making earth bald before her time, they are esteemed industrious and enterprising citizens. As if a town had no interest in forests but to cut them down!
Henry David Thoreau |
What another would have
done as well as you, do not do it. What another would have said as well as you, do not say it; what another would have written as well, do not write it. Be faithful to that which exists nowhere but in yourself--and thus make yourself indispensable. Andre Gide |
If he/she hits you once, he/she will hit you again. - me |
Mr. Bent...another luscious Katie Donovan work
CONFLUENCE
Beneath the amber hood of the street lamp, beside the black gates of the somnolent park, we are eyed by fanlights, flanked by motionless cars. In this blind Georgian lane you lean in to claim a kiss. I offer you my goodnight lips, staying like a shut purse in your embrace, wary after years of opening too fast my burns still hurt and proud. Yet the sweetness of your mouth, and your tongue — a luscious, sinuous sea-creature – is a feast I cannot resist; nor can I pull back from the strength in your arms as you draw me close, loosening your coat to fold me in your cinnamon heat. Here it is, timeless, a scene on a street: a man and a woman tongued and grooved into one. |
"Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen."
~ J.W. von Goethe |
Home
"The fellow that owns his own home is always just coming out of a hardware store."
Kin Hubbard "I'm a real suzy Homemaker!" Suzy bogguss |
Don't postpone joy until you have learned all of your lessons. Joy is your lesson." - Alan Cohen
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