Posts Tagged ‘winter’
There were stars. They burned my eyes.
The Book Thief Movie
IT KILLS ME SOMETIMES HOW PEOPLE DIE
A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it’s in hot water. ― Eleanor Roosevelt
THERE ARE SO MANY FRAGILE THINGS…after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.
I AM, I AM, I AM…
IF SOMEBODY LIKES ME…
If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don’t want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too. I want them to be able to do whatever they want around me. -- Stephen ChboskyI AM HORRIBLY LIMITED.
I can never read all the books I want. I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited. - Silvia PlathTHE VALLEY SONG
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
a bed of grass, a soft green pillow
lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
and when again they open, the sun will rise.Here it’s safe, here it’s warm
here the daisies guard you from every harm
here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
here is the place where I love you.Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
a clock of leaves, a moonbeam ray
forget your woes and let your troubles lay
and when again it’s morning, they’ll wash away.Here it’s safe, hears its’ warm
here the daises guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow bring them true
here is the place where I love you.― Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games, The Valley Song
THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER
So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.I DESIRE THE THINGS THAT WILL DESTROY ME IN THE END.
SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK
O, full of scorpions is my mind.
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth-
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