There are things about organized religion which I resent. Christ is revered as the Prince of Peace, but more blood has been shed in his name than any other figure in history. You show me one step forward in the name of religion, and I'll show you a h...
You took my heart and you held it in your mouth And, with a word all my love came rushing out And, every whisper, it's the worst, emptied out by a single word There is a hollow in me now... And Every whisper, every sigh Eats away at this heart of min...
Now you stride alone through the Paris crowds Busses in bellowing herds roll by Anguish clutches your throat As if you would never again be loved In the old days you would have turned monk With shame you catch yourself praying And jeer your laughter ...
I love words. I thank you for hearing my words. I want to tell you something about words that I think is important. Words are my work, they’re my play. They’re my passion. Words are all we have really. We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. An...
Again, I am surprised why people seek to eliminate lust and cling to love; as they wish to ignore happiness and cleave unto joy! Now, now, let's not sugar-coat things! Lust has a lot more to do with life and what is the good of life if you do not car...
I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones...
The strangest things about people, are the different ways that people feel loved. Really, it is very strange how one word can mean so many different things to so many different people. And then there are the unique ways how we feel forgotten and left...
was a great man. a wonderful intellect, a great soul of matchless courage, one of the great men of the earth -- and yet we have no right to bow down to his memory simply because he was great. Great orators, great soldiers, great lawyers, often use th...
I pen you words from my heart neither paper nor pen would do as I lay them out in flowery fonts what more could you ask for as I am writing in your heart the love that I want to endure I am no Keats nor am I anyone but me a poetess longing for your t...
The great triumph (or horrible tragedy, depending on how you look at it) of being human is that our brains have evolved over hundreds of thousands of years to understand our mortality. We are, sadly, self-aware creatures. Even if we move through the ...
How are you supposed to know what to read next? This is the question that keeps us up at night, so at Day One our mission is to feed an audience of literature-hungry, time-constrained readers like you with a weekly lineup of talented authors, poets, ...
Something is missing: that's as close as I can come to naming the sensation, an awareness of missed or thwarted connections, or of a great hollowness left where something lovely and solid used to be. ...There is something fundamentally insatiable abo...
Was joy created always to live under that threat? Always defenseless to those who would rather be miserable than have their self will be crossed? Can you really have thought that love and joy would always be at the mercy of frowns and sighs? The dema...
I have been given the rare opportunity to teach Jiu Jitsu for a living. This is a privilege that I wake up everyday grateful for, and a responsibility that I hold dearly. I understand how rare it is to be employed through a labor you genuinely love, ...
I beam back at her. Fuck the surgery, fuck the kids, fuck the men in our lives or no longer in our lives. This is sweet. When she catches up with me, I say, How many, just how many forty-plus women would do that? We gaze back up at the face bleeding ...
As for clothing, to come at once to the practical part of the question, perhaps we are led oftener by the love of novelty, and a regard for the opinions of men, in procuring it, than by a true utility. Let him who has work to do recollect that the ob...
He thought of trying to explain something he had recently noticed about himself: that if anyone insulted him, or one of his friends, he didn't really mind--or not much, anyway. Whereas if anyone insulted a novel, a story, a poem that he loved, someth...
Nothing may stay the same but I guess one good thing that should remain still is the heart that always remembers to: stay strong and stay kind; stay lovely and stay nice; stay good and stay humble; stay true and stay honest. Just stay being the best ...
I know it is not fair to expect love from someone who hardly knows you at all. I know that we are too young to understand and too old to understand and that perhaps nobody understands at all. I know that things happen for reasons we cannot comprehend...
We may live without poetry, music, and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart; We may live without friends; we may live without books; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books,—what is knowledge bu...
The Song of the Winged Ones is a song of celebration, written as though the singer were standing on the Dragon Isle watching the dragons flying in the sun. The words are full of wonder at the beauty of the creatures; and there is a curious pause in t...
