...It’s hard to watch
the game we make of love,
like everyone’s playing checkers
with their scars,
saying checkmate
whenever they get out
without a broken heart.
Just to be clear
I don’t want to get out
without a broken heart.
I intend to leave this life
so shattered
there’s gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all of my flying parts.
Beauty exists, even in unlikely places. The key isn't to open your eyes but to open your heart.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: beauty heart beautiful richelle beautiful-creatures richelle-goodrich unlikely
We don't need less kids, just more middle managers...
Ryan FitzpatrickTag: heart proof adage inheritance-cycle algorithm boogers coalescence copulation flarf
The Conditioned Mind / shuts off magical vision and gnosis / gives up freedom, truth, real choices / loses sight of love, trust, and social coherence / loses touch with organic life, gives way to interference // risks personal wellbeing, peace of heart, balance of mind / is tricked into believing we need power, money, lies / and people to lead us by the nose into violence and war / is hypnotised, drugged, poisoned, misinformed.
Jay WoodmanTag: truth freedom vision peace mind heart trust balance magical organic gnosis wellbeing conditioned
The boy’s skeletal frame was now all that remained of him, and through his flesh could be seen the steady beat of his indomitable heart.
Sage SteadmanTag: heart never-give-up
I am a religious by the heart, but an atheist by the mind.
M.F. MoonzajerTag: mind heart atheist religious
Every woman’s heart cannot be opened with words; sometimes you need to use your hands.
M.F. MoonzajerIt is true, as John Bunyan said, that God infinitely prefers a heart without words to words without a heart when we pray.
Peter KreeftMostra la citazione in tedesco
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A writer's heart, a poet's heart, an artist's heart, a musician's heart is always breaking. It is through that broken window that we see the world...
Alice WalkerTag: love heart brokenness artists-life
The light from his torch painted the barren forest in shades of his own reflection, black-haired, gray-eyed and pale for want of a touch. He pulled his cloak close, unable to determine which made him more uncomfortable: the dreary woods or the new moon settling onto his heart like a cloud of moths.
F.T. McKinstryTag: heart night forest wizard new-moon
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