And you wrote the words "I love you", and sprayed it with perfume. It's better than the fire is to heat this lonely room.
Don't tell, they would banish us, you know.
That day in Moscow, it will all come true, when, for the last time, I take my leave, And hasten to the heights that I have longed for, Leaving my shadow still to be with you.
I inhale the sweet breeze that comes from thy mouth, I contemplate thy beauty every day. It’s my desire to hear thy lovely voice like the north wind’s whiff. Love will rejuvenate my limbs. Give me thy hands that hold thy soul, I shall embrace and live by it. Call me by name again, again, forever, and never will it sound without response.
My heart to joy at the same tone; and all I loved, I loved alone.
Whatever is done from love always occurs beyond good and evil.
Sometimes its a whole lot of oysters, but no pearls - then all at once you look across a crowded room and see the way the light attaches to a girl.
Maybe they'll not love the voice or the instrument, but they'll love the fire inside.
Change my life into nickels and dimes... then no one will mind all my lost time.
There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, that has always been enough.
What of the hunting, hunter bold? Brother, the watch was long and cold. What of the quarry ye went to kill? Brother, he crops in the jungle still. Where is the power that made your pride? Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side. Where is the haste that ye hurry by? Brother, I go to my lair – to die.
The weight of this sad time we must obey, Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most; we that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Beatrice: Is it possible that disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.
Benedick: Then is courtsey a turncoat. But it is certain that I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart for, truly, I love none.
I am willing, to give up this fight.
I wrote your name in the sand , but the waves washed it away. I worte your name on my hand , but I washed it the next day. I wrote your name on a piece of paper but I accidentally threw it away. I wrote your name in my heart and forever it will stay.
No more angels, No more dreams, Only rain and wind, The coldness of steel. The end of my Chapter, But the story goes on, Pages turned and forgotten, I'll read yours when I'm gone. No glory in death, No heaven or hell, Just a void which is empty, Where nothingness dwells.
Moonlight falls on the gravestone like death the gravestone is mine... a crow caws so close to my ear, i taste a bitter taste and it smells like death i see nothing but utter stillness i can see my fear run through the yard i see the ghost of curt cobain run through the yard and i chase after him there is a taste of sweet dew on my tongue in my bedroom there are posters on the wall i read a note over and over again and the words 'sup loser' haunt me... the giants peer over the midgets intimidating he loves everything about me, why does he had me so? the dull pencil of life tried to write on the soul and failed. i am as happy as a dull face in the dark my eyes go from ice blue to pitch black in the blink of an eye Lydia is dead in her mind. in the next months i'll walk through in a daze the hazy fog echoes as she lives for death she dies everyday and lives for tomorow elle amour mort mais elles deteste vie her pen writes on the pages of her heart a sweet song she will end the wait of life with the death of spirits.