Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Language is rich, and malleable. It is a living, vibrant material, and every part of a poem works in conjunction with every other part - the content, the place, the diction, the rhythm, the tone-as well as the very sliding, floating, thumping, rapping sounds of it.
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Language is rich, and malleable. It is a living, vibrant material, and every part of a poem works in conjunction with every other part - the content, the place, the diction, the rhythm, the tone-as well as the very sliding, floating, thumping, rapping sounds of it.
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A moment of silence settled over all of them. Then Velva broke it. __e are the hunter and the haunter, the haunted and hunted.___ut for what purpose?_ asked Sir Sun.__t is all for the same purpose, Timothy._ The empty that wish to be full.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
Love is always worth the risks, even when, especially when, it scares you.
Be dangerous, darling, for the whole world rises and falls at your feet.
Love is an exorcism of angels.