I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
Man please thy maker and be merry set not for this world a cherry.
I was not made for the great light that devours, a dim lamp was all I had been given, and patience without end, to shine it on the empty shadows.
a definition of poetry "imaginary gardens with real toads in them"
One of the lessons of history is that nothing is often a good thing to do and always a clever…
The aim of good prose words is to mean what they say. The aim of good poetical words is to…