During the day I would move my body to the rhythm that only I could hear. I would try and connect with everything in my surroundings thinking that it somehow connected to who I was and was secretly sending me messages about what was in my soul.
The HippieHe looks like an angel, sings like an angel. He found my breaking heart and coaxed it into a new rhythm.
Angela MorrisonMots clés love heartbreak angel rhythm
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Jumping from boulder to boulder and never falling, with a heavy pack, is easier than it sounds; you just can't fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance.
Jack KerouacMots clés dance rock climbing rhythm hiking boulder
A couple of hours after Sunset Michael Robartes returned and told me that I would have to learn the steps of an exceedingly antique dance, because before my initiation could be perfected I had to join three times in a magical dance, for rhythm was the wheel of Eternity, on which alone the transient and accidental could be broken, and the spirit set free.
W.B. YeatsAn angel kissed my strings, while I slept last night. And her rhythm broke my hunger. And I died a little less.
Sara QuinMots clés angel rhythm heavy broke tegan-and-sara tegan-quin sara-quin under-feet-like-ours i-died-a-little-less kissed-my-strings my-hunger
Poetry has an immediate effect on the mind. The simple act of reading poetry alters thought patterns and the shuttle of the breath. Poetry induces trance. Its words are chant. Its rhythms drumbeats. Its images become the icons of the inner eye. Poetry is more than a description of the sacred experience; it carries the experience itself.
Ivan M. GrangerMots clés poetry breath rhythm trance
Let us liberate ourselves from any form of control. Let us focus at the inner drum, where the rhythm aligns with that of our heart. The measure of responsibility, equals to the need for evolution. Just listen, the inner child, let it whisper in your ear.
Grigoris DeoudisMots clés heart evolution responsibility control inner-child rhythm inner drum liberate
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm.
Mots clés life love death sonnet rhythm
There is music in the cacophony of life.
Saru SinghalMots clés life music soul rhythm
Yes, I know that now that there is truth in beauty and beauty in truth. My nature is to be depressive and come out of it and write, and enjoy writing and feeling as if I have a passion and excitement and love and euphoria for it and then I go 'back to sleep again' where I can eat and watch television and not work, not be productive and then just as if a magic switch is turned on I can do it all over again. I don't mind the being depressed part. Sometimes it seems to fuel me. The anger though is gone now that was there in my twenties and even earlier in my youth. Your voice is Tolstoy’s, Hemingway’s, Updike’s, Styron’s, Mcewan’s, Greene’s, Fugard’s, Kundera’s, Rilke’s while I am the incarnate of Radcliffe Hall crossing both genders effortlessly. You betray nothing. There is son in the picture. A small boy but you don’t introduce him to me. Obsessions are unhealthy creatures. They make you mentally ill, emotionally unstable; leave you with a chemistry of deep sadness in your life. I have my writing. It keeps me from disintegrating into fractions. I should stop now before I begin to make myself cry.
Abigail GeorgeMots clés catcher-in-the-rye rhythm fragmented discontent melancholia illness-and-hope all-about-my-mother genius-in-the-family
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