What would your shoes say about the things you do everyday?
Sherley Mondesir-PrescottStichwörter: humor imagination poetry animals poetic children humour children-s-books kindergarten shoes preschool imaginative picture-books illustrated-books
How stark everything became, at the end, all the wishes for one's children distilled by the world's swift cruelty into the desperate hope that death would take them fast.
Justin CroninStichwörter: poetic literary apocalyptic
The cork was in the bottle. He and the Atropos were trapped.
C.S. ForesterStichwörter: poetic metaphor trapped imagery nautical bottle forester hornblower
faces pressed against the pane, full of little, content with sawdust tears.
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: poetic imagery page-46
But the future lay open, a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities with a small quick heartbeat, delicate and impatient
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: inspirational poetic imagery pages-63-64
desperately knocking against the blind little world, i loosened one of its planks, opening a window to a new, wider world. There, spread out, was a profusion of geography, of atmosphere, of full empty air.
Jonathan Safran FoerStichwörter: poetic imagery pages-68-69
Whole life is a search for beauty. But, when the beauty is found inside, the search ends and a beautiful journey begins.
Harshit WaliaStichwörter: wisdom life success beauty poetic philosophy journey religion psychology spirituality philosophical inner-beauty search indian-fiction
Genius in general is poetic. Where genius has been active it has been poetically active. The truly moral person is a poet.
NovalisStichwörter: poetry morality poetic philosophy genius novalis
In the molten fire where he lay he could watch the slow machinations of eternity, the cosmic miracle of each second being born, eggshaped, silverplated, phallic, time thrusting itself gleaming through the worn and worthless husk of the microsecond previous, halting, beginning to show the slow and infinitesimal accreations of decay in the clocking away of life in a mechanism encoded at the moment of conception, withering, shunted aside by time's next orgasmic thrust, and all to the beating of some galactic heart, to voices, a madman's mutterings from a snare in the web of the world.
William GayStichwörter: poetic philosophical southern-gothic
I slept and saw God's forge in frost. Its hearth was quelled, and as it cooled so swooned the verdancy it kept above. In slumber it grew a thick winter skin, white as bedsheets. In their folds the waker dreamt, her breath as steam, her touch as hot as iron, forgotten in the fire.
Andrew HussieStichwörter: poetic charles-dutton
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