Show me.
Show me that there's reason to keep trying.
Show me that there's beauty left.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Gentle Sir Philip Sidney, thou knew'st what belong'd to a scholler; thou knew'st what pains, what toil, what travail conduct to perfection.
About Me
- Piers
- West Tennessee, United States
- "I am grown at length to see into the vanity of the world more than ever I did, and now I condemn myself for nothing so much as playing the dolt in print . . . . There is nothing that if a man list he may not wrest or pervert. I cannot forbid any to think villainously, Sed caveat emptor, let the interpreter beware; for none ever heard me make allegories of an idle text."
Blog Archive
-
▼
2008
(321)
-
▼
November
(36)
- Teef
- Battery pills
- loose threads
- Vade Mecum
- post-feast feast
- Danke
- Days
- For all those who snicker when Piers says he's col...
- Lux Libertas
- Merely Perspective.
- Not Ironic
- No more turn aside and brood
- Still Breathing
- Leap Before You Look
- This quintessence of dust
- To review
- Twelfth Night
- Work.
- Woodsmoke
- Life's Like a Movie, Write your own ending
- Alas.
- Funny Faces
- Words to live by
- In which Piers observes students flirting
- Do Not Blink. Look at it fully.
- Remember.
- The Quest
- Can we just skip ahead a bit?
- Here's what you can do.
- It is what it is.
- From a cell window
- A glimpse
- Advice from a Caterpillar
- These Things Will Not Bite You
- Who the **** are you?
- Fragments Concerning the Life and Death of a Popul...
-
▼
November
(36)
Followers
Books
2 comments:
Have heart, my dear.
beauty in the midst of pain:
that memorable bit from Woolf about "leaden circles dissolve in air" (a description of Big Ben's ringing in Mrs. Dalloway) always seems to me like a beautiful, poetic rendering of the horrible (the oppressive pressure of Time that so dominates the novel).
Post a Comment