We are luck. We are fate.
We are the feeling you get in the Golden State.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
poem of the day:
"Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep."
-A.E. Housman, from
A Shropshire Lad, IV. Reveille
Post a Comment
Post Comments (Atom)