Trying again. I like reading, cooking, working out, sleeping too late, writing, going to school, pretty clothes, trucks, makeup, fall, spring, birthdays.
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Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath…
— Keats, from “Ode to a Nightingale.”
“Nothing can be sadder or more profound than to see a thousand things for the first and last time. To journey is to be born and die each minute.”
“Her whole being quivered as though at the unfolding of invisible wings making ready to spread and bear her upward.”
“There utter darkness and here shadow; but a shadow filled with light, a light filled with radiance.”
Difficult times have helped me understand better than before, how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatsoever.
— Isak Dinesen.
I have a trunk containing continents.
— Beryl Markham.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
—Byron, who was, according to popular opinion, “mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”
He who fights with monsters must take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
— Freidrich Nietzsche.
