“We’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And take upon's the mystery of things,
As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon” <3
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
And take upon's the mystery of things,
As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon” <3
Kumbayakid · 61-69, M
“I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff—I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.”
nonsensiclesnail · F
“This is the only story of mine whose moral I know, I don’t think it’s a marvelous moral; I simply happen to know what it is: We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”- Mother Night, Kurt Vonnegut
Harl3y100 · M
“Every time I judge someone else, I reveal an unhealed part of myself.”
It’s an anonymous quote but I love it.
It’s an anonymous quote but I love it.
Fertilization · 36-40, F
@Harl3y100 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
Trippin · F
I could be bound in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space if it were not that I have bad dreams.
Kumbayakid · 61-69, M
My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
Dylan Thomas
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.
Dylan Thomas
wackidywack · 26-30
And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good
MaryJanine · 70-79, F
"There's no crying in baseball!"
DocSavage · M
Tack ! And I parry your last essay
So may a turn of my hand forestall
Life with it’s honey
Death with it’s gull
So may turn my fancy roam
Free for a time, til the rhymes recall
And as I end the refrain, thrust home
So may a turn of my hand forestall
Life with it’s honey
Death with it’s gull
So may turn my fancy roam
Free for a time, til the rhymes recall
And as I end the refrain, thrust home
Kumbayakid · 61-69, M
‘Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’
Midnightoker1 · 61-69, M
I whipped off her bloomers 'n stiffened my thumb an' applied rotation on her sugar plum.......
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