One never stops climbing, Julie, unless he wants to stop and vegetate. There’s always something just ahead.
Irene HuntMots clés life journey striving climbing pursuit
Beautiful hours move so quickly.
Irene HuntMots clés happiness beauty time fleeting
I found lines that mirrored an ache and longing I had so often felt when the beauty around my woods cathedral was too intense, when the need to grasp and keep loveliness left me with a sense of desolate frustration.
Irene HuntMots clés beauty nature feelings intense
From my window I watched the full moon—a moon that reminded me of Brett—become shadowed, little by little until there was only a deep blackness in the woods at night. I would sit there wakeful, hour after hour, and wonder if this aching around my heart, this sense of being alone, forlorn and unwanted in a world where there was gayety and love for others of my age, was going to continue for all of my days.
Irene HuntMots clés growing-up sadness thoughts adolescence lovesick
On such a night,’ I thought, ‘were ill and good,
Bright and unlovely; precious, tawdry,
All mingled into one
And pressed against my heart.
Mots clés poetry feelings mixed-emotions
We mustn’t give trouble a shape before it throws its shadow.
Irene HuntMots clés optimism worry thoughts trouble
« ; premier précédent
Page 2 de 2.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.