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Spanish Moss
hangs in the heavy night air haunting and beguiling I watch enamored she begins to sway to call out almost taunting I hesitate watching her sultry dance pulling Me to her I take refuge under her canopy I lie under her staring up into her most intimate places I feel her all around Me and drift off to sleep in the morning slivers of light awaken Me and I know I must go I now know too much you see ~ERS |
"All men should strive to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why." ~James Thurber |
"No single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born." ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry |
"To dare to live alone is the rarest courage; since there are many who had rather meet their bitterest enemy in the field, than their own hearts in their closet." ~Charles Caleb |
-while it is always important to honor what we’ve lost-sometimes a loss can also represent a chance for a new beginning-
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War will cease when people refuse to fight.
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Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.
James Baldwin |
Real love is a pilgrimage. It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare because most people are strategists.
Anita Brookner |
Happy Birthday Mr. Whitman
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself; (I am large, I contain multitudes.) Song of Myself - Leaves of Grass Walt Whitman |
You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world. ~Sheila Graham
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It Is Spring Again
It is spring, And the ledger is opened again. From the abyss where they were frozen, those days suddenly return, those days that passed away from your lips, that died with all our kisses, unaccounted. The roses return: they are your fragrance; they are the blood of your lovers. Sorrow returns. I go through my pain and the agony of friends still lost in the memory of moon-silver arms, the caresses of vanished women. I go through page after page. There are no answers, and spring has come once again asking the same questions, reopening account after account. ~Faiz Ahmed Faiz |
I don't have hobbies, I have interests. Hobbies cost money. Interests are free.
George Carlin |
Capitalism tries for a delicate balance: It attempts to work things out so that everyone gets just enough stuff to keep them from getting violent and trying to take other people's stuff.
George Carlin http://images-partners-tbn.google.co...eCarlin-L2.jpg |
"And it all comes true,yes it all comes true, like a wheel inside a wheel it turns on you. And you think 'what have I done? What can I do?'. What you believe about yourself it all comes true" John Mellencamp
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Sometimes I find this to be true.
"A great novel is concerned primarily with the interior lives of its characters as they respond to the inconvenient narratives that fate imposes on them. Movie adaptations of these monumental fictions often fail because they become mere exercises in interior decoration." - Richard Schickel |
"Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins." - Franz Kafka |
"And if you cannot remain indifferent, you must resolve to throw your weight into that balance in which the fate and condition of man is weighed." - Lajos Kossuth |
Everyone is trying to accomplish something big, not realizing that life is made up of little things. - Frank A. Clark
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Quiza fue una hecatombe de esperanzas
un derrumbe de algun modo previsto ah pero mi tristeza solo tuvo un sentido todas mis intuiciones se asomaron para verme sufrir y por cierto me vieron hasta aqui habia hecho y rehecho mis trayectos contigo hasta aqui habia apostado a inventar la verdad pero vos encontraste la manera una manera tierna y a la vez implacable de desahuciar mi amor con un solo pronostico lo quitaste de los suburbios de tu vida posible lo envolviste en nostalgias lo cargaste por cuadras y cuadras y despacito sin que el aire nocturno lo advirtiera ahi nomas lo dejaste a solas con su suerte que no es mucha creo que tenes razon la culpa es de uno cuando no enamora y no de los pretextos ni del tiempo hace mucho muchisimo que yo no me enfrentaba como anoche al espejo y fue implacable como vos mas no fue tierno ahora estoy solo francamente solo siempre cuesta un poquito empezar a sentirse desgraciado antes de regresar a mis lobregos cuarteles de invierno con los ojos bien secos por si acaso miro como te vas adentrando en la niebla y empiezo a recordarte. ~ Mario Benedetti |
The liar's punishment is not in the least that he is not believed, but that he cannot believe anyone else. -George Bernard Shaw, writer, Nobel laureate (1856-1950)
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