Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. Originally posted 2011-07-22 07:41:56. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreI watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That’s my dream; that’s my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor… and surviving. Originally posted 2011-09-30 23:01:26. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreI felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood Originally posted 2011-08-11 19:37:57. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
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