...

"...Nor ever were they kind enough to give the night her peace,
Nor ever were they wise enough to their own souls release.
And so they likewise pay their debts, the debtors and the stars:
One for putting forth the night, the others for their scars."

Labels: poetry

u moved me.Wednesday, September 17, 2008

whispers

There is a pleasure sure in being mad
which none but madmen know

Don't wish. Don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart. -Wicked

memories