let the noon find thee by other lakes........ and the night overtake thee everywhere at home.............there are no larger fields than these, no worthier games that may be played.........grow wild according to thy nature, like these sedges and brakes which will never become English hay.......let the thunder rumble and take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts and sheds .........let not to get a living by they trade but thy sport................enjoy the land but own it not ............through want of enterprise and faith men are where they are.......buying and selling and spending their lives like pitiful serfs!
-Thoreau









Ást,
Brynhildur
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Hey you, you're way ahead of me - You're drunk on apathy, you burned right out. Hey you, you're just a cripple now, we sell for millions now, they sold you out.
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gather ye rosebuds while ye may.......olde tyme is still a flying.
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DEVIANTART! Nowhere will you find a more wretched hive of scum and villany...we must be cautious.
Maybe all men got one big soul that everyone's a part of. All faces are the same man....one big self.
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■ Aie
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Dying is an art. - Sylvia Plath
Greets
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' photographs... made of this cool, grey and framed in black paper, are rather hourglasses.
They are speaking to our eyes that this world never existed... '
Jean Clair
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