July 2010
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Music was a thing of the soul—a rose-lipped shell that murmured of the...
– Josiah Gilbert Holland (via allgreendreams, dancingbearsandpaintedwings)
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There’s such a gulf between yourself and who you were then, but people speak to...
– Barbara Kingsolver (Animal Dreams) (via rememo)
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Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more...
– Mitch Albom (via gatekeeper)
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Glass by Robert Francis
Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its shape Is nothing but the shape of what it holds. A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket. Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence. Words should be looked through, should be windows. The best word were invisible. The poem is the thing the poet thinks. If the impossible were not, And if the glass, ...
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Scar tissue has no character. It’s not like skin. It doesn’t show...
– Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen
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"If you are still breathing maybe it is not such a...
Darren E. Laws
(Just about though)
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I asked the Zebra,
are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black...
– Shel Silverstein
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Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the...
– Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
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She Didn’t Mean To Do It by Daisy Fried
Oh, she was sad, oh, she was sad. She didn’t mean to do it. Certain thrills stay tucked in your limbs, go no further than your fingers, move your legs through their paces, but no more. Certain thrills knock you flat on your sheets on your bed in your room and you fade and they fade. You falter and they’re gone, gone, gone. Certain thrills puff off you like smoke rings, some like bell rings...
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Blue.
it is all the best emotions, the deep hopes, the longings for things like long beach summers, true friendships, smiles that go beyond; and the lingering things - the residues of travels, kind words, sweet memories, and good intentions. blue is things missed and still wanted, aching urges. it’s power to upright everything… and wash away. it’s stretched over a surface, like a canvas, a...
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I was never a man of great ambition.
I cried too easily.
I didn’t have a...
– The History of Love by Nicole Krauss
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Those of us who are lost and low
We know how you feel
We know it’s not...
– Laura Marling (Don’t Ask Me Why)
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"She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in...
Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer
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Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare,...
– L.M. Montgomery
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An Invitation by Shel Silverstein
If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer … If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire, For we have some flax golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!
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You did not build me for solitaire by Bradley...
Inspired by a friend; she is golden.. Introductory line by Li Po in “The River Song” translated by Ezra Pound.
Five clouds hang aloft, bright on purple sky; blue steel harshly glints, on an aged Chevy’s hubs and the wind rushes through her straight thin hair.
She closes her eyes soft the wind words whispered float around like lilies the unbroken things no longer hers.
So sorrowful...
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Music is amazing. There’s some metaphysical comfort where it allows you to...
– Wayne Coyne
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"We all live with the objective of being happy;...
Anne Frank