It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye. Originally posted 2011-07-27 22:08:45. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreBy the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes Originally posted 2011-08-05 18:11:05. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Read MoreWhat fabrications they are, mothers. Scarecrows, wax dolls for us to stick pins into, crude diagrams. We deny them an existence of their own, we make them up to suit ourselves — our own hungers, our own wishes, our own deficiencies. Originally posted 2011-08-10 19:30:58. 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 MoreI felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. Originally posted 2011-07-26 09:59:23. 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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