Τρίτη, 8 Μαΐου 2012
“You have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don’t even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you realised the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid.”
|—||Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray|
There are certain people that come into your life, and leave a mark. Their place in your heart is tender, a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business. Just hearing their names pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless.
Παρασκευή, 20 Απριλίου 2012
The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people don’t just happen.
Πέμπτη, 5 Ιανουαρίου 2012
Real life is a funny thing you know.
In real life saying the right thing, at the right moment is beyond crucial.
So crucial in fact, that most of us start to hesitate, for fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
But lately what I’ve began to fear more than that, is letting the moment pass with saying anything.
I think you deserved to look back on your life without this chorus of resounding voices saying, I could of but it’s too late now.
So there’s a time for silent, and there a time for waiting your turn. But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say.
You’ll know it.
I don’t think you should wait.
I think you should speak now.
I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of syncronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.