Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Tomorrow the winds will change
And we will be blown
To whereabouts we know not of.
Like the dandelions that gather in the wind,
We dance loosely
And tomorrow we belong to a different land.
Whether we are apart or forever bound together
Only the wind knows the answer
And it is a secret that it will never tell.
You can believe, you may hope,
Sometimes there is magic left in this world
And sometimes all there is, are crushed dreams.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
I read a post about books to read for winter and the first book that came to my mind was Sherlock Holmes. I read the entire series during my last winter in Arizona and it just felt so right for the weather. With a cup of coffee/tea, thick socks, cosy blanket, and that book, life was good.
I miss winter.
"Conscience is the labyrinth of illusion, desire, and pursuit, the furnace of dreams, the repository of thoughts of which we are ashamed; it is the pandemonium of sophistry, the battlefield of passions. To peer at certain moments into the withdrawn face of a human being in the act of reflection, to see something of what lies beyond their outward silence, is to discern struggle on a Homeric scale, conflicts of dragons and hydras, aerial hosts as in Milton, towering vistas as in Dante."
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Alexander the Great and his mule driver both died and the same thing happened to both. They were absorbed alike into the life force of the world, or dissolved alike into atoms.
The only thing that isn’t worthless: to live this life out truthfully and rightly. And be patient with those who don’t.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Things mortal, they never last.
Power you held dearly in your bloody hands
Gold and silver and riches
You paid for with your life
What good are they
When the sun is overcome by darkness
And all things under the heavens
Turn to dust?