Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.
-John Ashbery
An indiscriminate distrust of human nature is the worst consequence of a miserable condition, whether brought about by innocence or guilt. And though want of suspicion more than want of sense, sometimes leads a man into harm; yet too much suspicion is as bad as too little sense.
-Herman Melville
“For we love both the truth and our friends, piety requires us to honor the truth first.”-Aristotle
Within this copse, this thicket we call relationship, the woods are a blur of trees and
I, too, imperceptible. Surely to you and now to myself.
My self – indiscernible from you.
The path ahead, hidden by shadows, veiled in mist.
I wait for answers, praying not to disappear.
She was so much bigger than he’d imagined…but then he’d never really looked before. Looked and seen. Her eyes revealed enormity of wisdom and had they always searched his this way, he wondered. They commanded his attention so he couldn’t turn away. Forced to finally view her beauty, deep and wide and undeniable. How could he not have known?
But to see her, was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
-Robert Burns