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On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;The wind it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
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Cats, no less liquid than their shadows, offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat, through loopholes less than themselves.
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It's embarrassing ... you try to overthrow the government and you wind up on the Best Seller's List.
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Other times when I hear the wind blow I feel that just hearing the wind blow makes it worth being born.
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But understand that I want to remain alone, truly alone, so I can precede my face, my voice, my hell without anyone telling me which is the best path, without anyone laughing at the giant's wings and the dwarf's legs that impede my gait.
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Even when muddy your wings sparkle bright wonders that heal broken worlds.
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The evils of mortals are manifold; nowhere is trouble of the same wing seen.
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Every day has been so short, every hour so fleeting, every minute so filled with the life I love that time for me has fled on too swift a wing.
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Joy and growth come from following our deepest impulses, however foolish they may seem to some, or dangerous, and even though the apparent outcome may be defeat.
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The experience you’ve had may be unwanted, may amount to nothing but damage and waste, but experience has substance, is factual, authoritative, lives on in your past and affects your present, whatever you attempt to do about it.
