Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled read more

Loving is a feeling that brings both joy and pain to my heart. Joy from being with you, being filled with an emotion so deep and tender that no other feeling can compare. Pain from knowing that I'm so in love, that I'm more vulnerable than I've ever

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
- Lord Byron (George read more

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

The peace makers shall be called the children of God.

The peace makers shall be called the children of God.

I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Round read more

I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus
With tigery stripes, and a face on it
Round as the moon, to stare up.
I want to be looking at them when they come
Picking among the dumb minerals, the roots.
I see them already-the pale, star-distance faces.
Now they are nothing, they are not even babies.
I imagine them without fathers or mothers, like the first gods.
They will wonder if I was important.

He who has not looked on Sorrow will never see Joy.

He who has not looked on Sorrow will never see Joy.

What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
read more

What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not read more

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

Illusory joy is often worth more than genuine sorrow.

Illusory joy is often worth more than genuine sorrow.

Unexplained joy is always so keen that... it seems to hold enough to reconcile one to the inevitable.

Unexplained joy is always so keen that... it seems to hold enough to reconcile one to the inevitable.