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| boingo |
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When I had journeyed half of our life's way, I found myself within a shadowed forest, for I had lost the path that does not stray. |
| Huh?? |
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A girl? |
| trewpoiu |
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They say that in war That truth Be the first casualty -Zacharias De La Rocha |
| Homer'sIlliad |
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RAGE: Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage, Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls Of heroes into Hades' dark, And left their bodies to rot as feasts For dogs and birds, as Zeus' will was done. -Illiad (Lombardo) |
| e.e. cummings |
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I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) |
| scroca |
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Today is your birthday! Today you are you!...There is no one alive that is you-er than you! |
| Hulk |
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This |
| Another view |
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No contest. +1
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| Anikka |
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Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. |
| The sea yields to knowledge |
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"Tell me, Muse, of the man of many ways, who was driven far journeys / after he had sacked Troy's sacred citadel. |
| bacon1 |
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Do you like green eggs and ham? |
| The rest of the story |
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Read 'em, & weep: I met a traveler from an antique land It little profits that an idle king, Turning and turning in a widening gyre There are strange things done in the midnight sun A cold coming we had of it Hog Butcher for the World, Shelley Tennyson Yeats Eliot Service Sandburg |
| pr100 |
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Twas brillig, and the slithy toves... |
| Mrs. M |
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^my favorite so far....^ Here's the entire first stanza: `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.' |
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