April is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixingMemory out of desire, stirringDull roots with spring rain.Winter kept us warm, coveringEarth in a forgetful snow, feedingA little life with dried tubers.
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Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors ... on account of the hideousness of mysteries which will not suffer t...
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We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
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The happiest women, like the happiest nations, have no history.
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I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said, You told me not you drink and drive, Mom, So i drank sprit instead I felt really proud inside, Mom, The way you said I would. I didn?t drink and drive, Mom, Even though the others said i should I know i did the right thing, Mom I know you are always right. Now the party is finally ending, Mom, As everyone drives out of sight. As i got into my car, Mom, I knew i would get home in one piece Because of the way you raised me, Mom, So responsible and sweet. I started to drive away, Mom, But as I pulled onto the road The other car didn?t see me, Mom, And it hit me like a load. As I lie here on the pavement, Mom, I hear the police say, The other guy was drunk, Mom, And now I?m the one who will pay. I?m laying here dying, Mom, I wish you would get here soon. How come this happened to me, Mom? My life bursted like a ballon. There is blood all around me, Mom, Most of it is mine. I here the paramedics say, Mom, I?ll be dead in a short time. I just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear i didn?t drink It was the others, Mom, The others didn?t think He didn?t know where he was going, Mom, He was parably at the same party as I, the only difference is, Mom He drank and I will die. Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin my whole life. I?m feeling sharp pains now, Mom, Pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, I don?t think it?s fair. I?m lying here dying, Mom, While all he can do is stare. Tell my brother not to cry, Mom, Tell daddy to be brave. And when I get to heaven, Mom, Write ?Daddy?s Little Girl? on my grave. Someone should have told him, Mom, Not to drink and drive. If only they have taken the time, Mom I would still be alive. My breath is getting shorter, Mom I?m becoming very scared. Please don?t cry for me, Mom Because when i needed you, you were always there. I have one last question, Mom, before i say good-bye. I didnt ever drink, Mom So why am I do die? This is the end, Mom, I wish I could look you in the eyes, To say these final words, Mom, I love you, and Good-bye.
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Unreal city, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,...
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And the wind shall say Here were decent godless people. Their only monument the asphalt road. And a thousand lost golf balls.
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Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind.
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There is much pain that is quite noiseless; and vibrations that make human agonies are often a mere whisper in the roar of hurrying existence. There are glances of hatred that stab and raise no cry of murder; robberies that leave man or woman for ever beggared of peace and joy, yet kept secret by the sufferer /committed to no sound except that of low moans in the night, seen in no writing except that made on the face by the slow months of suppressed anguish and early morning tears. Many an inherited sorrow that has marred a life has been breathed into no human ear.
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Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
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In a minute there is time for decision and revisions that a minute will reverse.
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Större parti mycket starka_ sömntabletter, eller annat preparat (t.ex. cyanid) som utan problem garanterat kan ta död på en vuxen människa med självmordstankar. Brådskande! Email: snabbt@usa.net
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Its not easy being a penis. I have a head I can't think with, an eye I can't see out of, I live with 2 nuts, my closest neighbor is an asshole, my best friend is a pussy and my owner beats me all the time.
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In the small circle of pain within the skull You still shall tramp and tread one endless round Of thought, to justify your action to yourselves, Weaving a fiction which unravels as you weave, Pacing forever in the hell of make-believe Which never is belief: this is your fate on earth And we must think no further of you.
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The time of the seasons and the constellations The time of milking and the time of harvest...
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An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry.
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I was raised on a dairy farm and ate plenty of meat and eggs until about twenty years ago. I started doing nutritional research, and a decade or so after that my family made some major dietary changes. I'm just paying attention to what the data are telling me. The scientific evidence came first.
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What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.
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Television is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome
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So the lover must struggle for words.
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I have never had much patience with the multitudes of people who are always ready to explain why one cannot succeed. I have always had high regard for the man who could tell me how to succeed.
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We shall not cease from our exploration And at the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time
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Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree.
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If you aren't in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?
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If we Americans are to survive it will have to be because we choose and elect and defend to be first of all Americans; to present to the world one homogeneous and unbroken front, whether of white Americans or black ones or purple or blue or green. If we in America have reached that point in our desperate culture when we must murder children, no matter for what reason or what color, we don't deserve to survive, and probably won t.
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Webster was much possessed by death And saw the skull beneath the skin;...
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I do not wish to lose my temper because very shortly I will lose my head. Nevertheless, upon leaving this spark of earthly existence, I have t...
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Immature poets imitate mature poets steal.
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It�¹s a compliment, because it�¹s a place we haven�¹t been in a long time and it sets our standard even higher, ... We also understand that the percentage points and the rankings can change weekly. What we have to do is concentrate on winning. That's the only thing we have control over. It�¹s only October, and what we want to do is to be one of the top two teams in December.
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Age affects how people experience time. The observations on this are well known, so it is only necessary to outline briefly what has been the experience of everyone I have ever talked to or read about: the years go faster as one gets older. At the age of four or six, a year seems interminable; at sixty, the years begin to blend and are frequently hard to separate from each other because they move so fast! There are, of course, a number of common-sense explanations for this sort of thing. If you have only lived five years, a year represents 20 percent of your life; if you have lived fifty years, that same year represents only 2 percent of your life, and since lives are lived as wholes, this logarithmic element would make it difficult to maintain the same perspective on the experience of a year
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