It is moonlight. Alone in the silence I ascend my stairs once more, While waves remote in pale blue starlight Crash on a white sand shore. It is moonlight. The garden is silent. I stand in my room alone. Across my wall, from the far-off moon, A rain of fire is thrown. There are houses hanging above the stars, And stars hung under the sea, And a wind from the long blue vault of time Waves my curtains for me. I wait in the dark once more, swung between space and space: Before the mirror I lift my hands And face my remembered face. Originally posted 2011-08-06 18:16:18. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreMan is the only creature who refuses to be what he is. Originally posted 2011-07-25 21:46:20. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreThe boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? Originally posted 2011-07-20 21:51:04. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreI have learned not to think little of any one’s belief, no matter how strange it may be. I have tried to keep an open mind, and it is not the ordinary things of life that could close it, but the strange things, the extraordinary things, the things that make one doubt if they be mad or sane Originally posted 2011-07-16 22:33:02. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreNo man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away Originally posted 2011-07-11 20:31:34. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreWho has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. Originally posted 2011-08-13 18:36:52. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
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