-
Hi! handsome hunting man
Fire your little gun.
Bang! Now the animal
is dead and dumb and done.
Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again,
Eat or sleep or drink again. Oh, what funWalter de la Mare -
May your love for me be
like
the scent of the evening seadrifting in
through a quiet windowso i do not have to run
or chase or fall
… to feel youall i have to do
is
breathe.Sanober Khan -
We’ll make another kind of empire
C.S. Pacat -
From out their grottos at evenings beam,
the mermaids swim with locks agleam.Walter de la Mare -
In small towns, news travels at the speed of boredom.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón -
Time is drowning,
Hearts are burning,
Heads are rolling,
Nothing can save you now,
Tick tock, tick tock;Creatures talking,
Weak are rising,
White Queen’s nearing,
Nothing can save you now,
Tick tock, tick tock;Cards are bleeding,
Crowns are sweating,
Tea is spilling,
Nothing can save you now,
Tick tock, tick tock;Red Queen, here’s your warning,
Wonderland’s raging,
Alice is coming,
Highness, time is drowning,
And nothing can save you now,
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…Emory R. Frie -
I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what’s really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
—The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.Philip Larkin -
Stink bugs are temporary.
Love is foreverJill Twiss -
The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley -
Perhaps down in his heart Okonkwo was not a cruel man. But his whole life was dominated by fear, the fear of failure and of weakness.
It was deeper and more intimate that the fear of evil and capricious gods and of magic, the fear of the forest, and of the forces of nature, malevolent, red in tooth and claw.
Okonkwo’s fear was greater than these. It was not external but lay deep within himself.
Chinua Achebe
