That’s a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their right
mind would point at this thing and say, ‘I’m going to fly in my Model-A1’.
People would much rather say, ‘Get in my whirly-gig’. And that’s what you
should name it.
Tag: life music shakespeare romance rain death dreams sex water science-fiction magic emily-dickinson amnesia sacrifice apocalypse songs empty ghosts greek-mythology gothic jazz poems ships reflections magick haunting waking piano damnation androids storms desolate masquerade abandoned tempest count spectre carrack cityisle cityspire fedora haunts horace-walpole mannequins phillip-k-dick puddles specters
Do we not each dream of dreams? Do we not dance on the notes of lost
memories? Then are we not each dreamers of tomorrow and yesterday, since dreams
play when time is askew? Are we not all adrift in the constant sea of trial and when all is done, do we not all yearn for ships to carry us home?
Tag: life music shakespeare romance rain death dreams sex water science-fiction magic emily-dickinson amnesia sacrifice apocalypse songs empty ghosts greek-mythology gothic jazz poems ships reflections magick haunting waking piano damnation androids storms desolate masquerade abandoned tempest count spectre carrack cityisle cityspire fedora haunts horace-walpole mannequins phillip-k-dick puddles specters
History doesn’t start with a tall building
and a card with your name written on it, but jokes do. I think someone is taking
us for suckers and is playing a mean game.
Tag: life music shakespeare romance rain death dreams sex water science-fiction magic emily-dickinson amnesia sacrifice apocalypse songs empty ghosts greek-mythology gothic jazz poems ships reflections magick haunting waking piano damnation androids storms desolate masquerade abandoned tempest count spectre carrack cityisle cityspire fedora haunts horace-walpole mannequins phillip-k-dick puddles specters
After Homer and Dante, is a whole century of creating worth one Shakespeare?
Dejan StojanovicTag: wisdom books poetry shakespeare philosophy literature poets value quotes creating dante homer after century poetry-quotes literature-quotes dejan-stojanovic the-sun-watches-the-sun
Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out at every joint and motive of her body.
William ShakespeareTag: shakespeare beauty language body sonet wanton
It is something to have gazed on the constellated white,
felt it running from the eyes and the pores: the salt of love.
It is something to have whispered wild thank-yous
in the only ways we know how.
Tag: shakespeare hamlet free-verse poetry-life award-winning-poem the-quintessence-of-dust utmost-christian-writers
Usually, Shakespeare gives me goose bumps. The guy knows everything. Like some ancient angel quill-ing out blueprints life. Hiding it in fiction. And usually I love the sound of the words, the way they dance on the page. Today, they fall flat. My attention bobbing in the cosmos. All free brain-space is marinating in gap month fizz. I chew my pen, candy-cane style. The million possibilities ahead make it hard to care about right now. I write my answers slowly, each letter carved in stone not ballpoint. I’m going to explore the world, find my passion, try everything! The fizz shoots up my spine and a smile sprouts.
Jolene StockmanTag: shakespeare inspiration possibilities fizz
O ill-starred wench! Pale as your smock!
William ShakespeareTag: shakespeare waif
They died together; they'll always be remembered together. It's decided, once and for all. He was hers. The rumors don't matter; they'll fade...People may remember it was suicide, but my name won't be attached. It will just be two lovers, fused together forever.
Rebecca SerleTag: love shakespeare death heartbreak contemporary
Go ye, who rest so placidly upon the sacred Bard who had been young, and when he strung his harp was old, and had never seen the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging their bread; go, Teachers of content and honest pride, into the mine, the mill, the forge, the squalid depths of deepest ignorance, and uttermost abyss of man's neglect, and say can any hopeful plant spring up in air so foul that it extinguishes the soul's bright torch as fast as it is kindled!
Charles DickensTag: shakespeare teachers classics
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