Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги

Автор: Beramode


But I protect myself, I surround myself with books, their silence does not demand anything, they exist, they are alive, they are for anyone to open, unlike us human beings.


She’s so pretty when she’s reading and sleeping and laughing – she’s pretty all the time.


Whomever I love, I love better in winter than in summer.


Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art! -

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing оn the new soft fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors -

No -yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,

Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever -or else swoon to death.


I would like to be with you without your knowing it.


I feel within me a calm, pure harmony and music.


She’s art, I love her every bone, but it’s all kind of foolish, I am almost done, tired.


If I had my way we’d sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes.


God can't save any of us because it's inelegant.

Elegance is more important than suffering.


I was never good at hide and seek because I'd always make enough noise so my friends would be sure to find me. I don't have anyone to play those games with any more, but now and then I make enough noise just in case someone is still looking and hasn't found me yet.

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