...It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs the unwilling. And being restrain'd it by degrees becomes passive till it is only the shadow of desire.
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire ever can warm me I know *that* is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know *that* is poetry.
He drew a circle that shut me out- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle and took him In.
Isn't it funny how you can ache just from the deadly drone of existence?
How could I have known this rapture would make me so crazy, turn my heart into a hell and my eyes into rivers?
Roses are #FF0000 violets are #0000FF all my base are belong to you
Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
Heart! We will forget him! You and I -- tonight! You may forget the warmth he gave -- I will forget the light! When you have done, pray tell me That I may straight begin! Haste! lest while you're lagging I remember him!