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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    If I never see you again
    I will always carry you
    inside
    outside

    on my fingertips
    and at brain edges

    and in centers
    centers
    of what I am of
    what remains.

    Charles Bukowski

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    Note from one of my professors:

    "I see your argument and I agree - in class I wasn't quite sure of your full position, but you are correct, now that I see it."


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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    Impatient

    Diamonds dance across water
    Gnats frantic above the reeds
    Hawks spiral, circling the sun
    Face lifted, warmed, caressed
    Fishing boats wait silently, listening
    to the undulating murmur of distant traffic.
    Leaves catch the breeze and let it go again
    Summer waits offstage
    But the lake is impatient
    and starts her own show.

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    I'm going through years of notebooks I kept for school: Lecture notes, quotations, calculations, daydreams. Sometimes I wrote carefully, sometimes my writing was a mess - scribbled, almost illegible - no time for neatness. I used lines from this famous poem by Yeats in my final paper for an American Literature class taken when I was on my way to a degree in English, before I took the Intro to Psychology class that blew me off course and compelled me to get a degree in Psychology instead.

    The line to end all lines:


    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold


    THE SECOND COMING

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

    Willian Butler Yeats

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    "Your problem, Werner," says Frederick, "is that you still believe you own your life."

    Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See
    Last edited by annabenedetti; June 19th, 2017, 08:48 AM.

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  • patrick jane
    replied
    Originally posted by patrick jane View Post
    "The goal of socialism is communism" - Vladimir Lenin
    "I think, therefore, I am" - Rene Descartes

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  • patrick jane
    replied
    "The goal of socialism is communism" - Vladimir Lenin

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    the tired sunsets and the tired
    people—
    it takes a lifetime to die and
    no time at
    all.

    Charles Bukowski

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  • Lon
    replied
    "This book will keep you from sin, sin will keep you from this book." -Dr. John G. Mitchell

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  • Selaphiel
    replied
    Discipline
    If you set out to seek freedom, then learn above all things to govern your soul and your senses,
    for fear that your passions and longings may lead you away from the path you should follow.
    Chaste be your mind and your body, and both in subjection, obediently, steadfastly seeking the aim set before them;
    only through discipline may a man learn to be free.

    Action
    Daring to do what is right, not what fancy may tell you,
    valiantly grasping occasions, not cravenly doubting –
    freedom comes only through deeds, not through thoughts taking wing.
    Faint not nor fear, but go out to the storm and the action,
    trusting in God whose commandment you faithfully follow;
    freedom, exultant, will welcome your spirit with joy.

    Suffering
    A change has come indeed.
    Your hands, so strong and active, are bound; in helplessness now you see your action is ended;
    you sigh in relief, your cause committing to stronger hands; so now you may rest contented.
    Only for one blissful moment could you draw near to touch freedom;
    then, that it might be perfected in glory, you gave it to God.

    Death
    Come now, thou greatest of feasts on the journey to freedom eternal;
    death, cast aside all the burdensome chains, and demolish the walls of our temporal body, the walls of our souls that are blinded,
    so that at last we may see that which here remains hidden.
    Freedom, how long we have sought thee in discipline, action, and suffering;
    dying, we now may behold thee revealed in the Lord.


    -Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Written a couple of months before his execution.

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    The birds they sang
    At the break of day
    Start again
    I heard them say
    Don't dwell on what
    Has passed away
    Or what is yet to be

    Ah the wars they will
    Be fought again
    The holy dove
    She will be caught again
    Bought and sold
    And bought again
    The dove is never free

    Ring the bells that still can ring
    Forget your perfect offering
    There is a crack, a crack in everything
    That's how the light gets in

    We asked for signs
    The signs were sent:
    The birth betrayed
    The marriage spent
    Yeah the widowhood
    Of every government
    Signs for all to see

    I can't run no more
    With that lawless crowd
    While the killers in high places
    Say their prayers out loud
    But they've summoned, they've summoned up
    A thundercloud
    And they're going to hear from me

    Ring the bells that still can ring
    Forget your perfect offering
    There is a crack, a crack in everything
    That's how the light gets in

    You can add up the parts
    You won't have the sum
    You can strike up the march
    There is no drum
    Every heart, every heart
    To love will come
    But like a refugee

    Ring the bells that still can ring
    Forget your perfect offering
    There is a crack, a crack in everything
    That's how the light gets in

    Ring the bells that still can ring
    Forget your perfect offering
    There is a crack, a crack in everything
    That's how the light gets in

    Leonard Cohen

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    But next morning, at the first bend of the river shutting off the houses of Patusan, all this dropped out of my sight bodily, with its colour, its design, and its meaning, like a picture created by fancy on a canvas, upon which, after long contemplation, you turn your back for the last time. It remains in the memory motionless, unfaded, with its life arrested, in an unchanging light. There are the ambitions, the fears, the hate, the hopes, and they remain in my mind just as I had seen them — intense and as if for ever suspended in their expression. I had turned away from the picture and was going back to the world where events move, men change, light flickers, life flows in a clear stream, no matter whether over mud or over stones. I wasn’t going to dive into it; I would have enough to do to keep my head above the surface. But as to what I was leaving behind, I cannot imagine any alteration.

    Joseph Conrad

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  • annabenedetti
    replied
    A stagecoach passed by on the road and went on;
    And the road didn’t become more beautiful or even more ugly.
    That’s human action on the outside world.
    We take nothing away and we put nothing back, we pass by and we forget;
    And the sun is always punctual every day.

    Alberto Caeiro

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  • Town Heretic
    replied
    “The internet has become a carefully controlled and heavily monitored illusion. It has turned into both a circus and battleground." - Suzy Kassem

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  • Angel4Truth
    replied

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