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—
6 voters
“When you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins. Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too. And you don't think they're perfect, but you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they don't frighten you away; in fact you love them more for it, because you don't want perfect. You want them. You want—"
He broke off then, as if realizing everyone was looking at him again.
"You want what?" said Dru with enormous eyes.
"Nothing," Julian said. "I'm just talking.”
― Lady Midnight
He broke off then, as if realizing everyone was looking at him again.
"You want what?" said Dru with enormous eyes.
"Nothing," Julian said. "I'm just talking.”
― Lady Midnight
“The Strangers In The Box
Come, look with me inside this drawer
In this box I've often seen
At the pictures, black and white
Faces proud, still and serene.
I wish I knew the people
These strangers in the box
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among the socks.
I wonder what their lives were like,
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone would have taken time,
To tell who, what, and when,
Those faces of my heritage
Would come to life again.
Could this become the fate
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday to be tossed away.
Make time to save your pictures
Seize the opportunity when it knocks
Or someday you and yours could be
The strangers in the box”
―
Come, look with me inside this drawer
In this box I've often seen
At the pictures, black and white
Faces proud, still and serene.
I wish I knew the people
These strangers in the box
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among the socks.
I wonder what their lives were like,
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone would have taken time,
To tell who, what, and when,
Those faces of my heritage
Would come to life again.
Could this become the fate
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday to be tossed away.
Make time to save your pictures
Seize the opportunity when it knocks
Or someday you and yours could be
The strangers in the box”
―
“When you know who you are; when your mission is clear and you burn with the inner fire of unbreakable will; no cold can touch your heart; no deluge can dampen your purpose. You know that you are alive.”
―
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