I just love dogs, and there really is no better companion than an animal.
Rita Rudner
I just love dogs, and there really is no better companion than an animal.
Rita Rudner
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
John Donne
Dr. Samuel Johnson: [places two manuscripts on the table, but picks up the top one] Here it is, sir. The very cornerstone of English scholarship. This book, sir, contains every word in our beloved language.
Blackadder: Every single one, sir?
Dr. Samuel Johnson: Every single word, sir!
Blackadder: Oh, well, in that case, sir, I hope you will not object if I also offer the Doctor my most enthusiastic contrafibularities.
Dr. Samuel Johnson: What?
Blackadder: “contrafibularities”, sir? It is a common word down our way.
Dr. Samuel Johnson: Damn!
[writes in the book]
Blackadder: Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’m anaspeptic, phrasmotic, even compunctuous to have caused you such pericombobulation.
“A hidden spark of the dream sleeps
In the forest and waits
In the celestial spheres of the brain.”
― Dejan Stojanovic, Circling: 1978-1987
I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day. Vincent Van Gogh
Through Love all that is bitter will be sweet, Through Love all that is copper will be gold, Through Love all dregs will become wine, through Love all pain will turn to medicine. Rumi
To appreciate present conditions, collate them with those of antiquity. Basil Bunting
In the social jungle of human existence, there is no feeling of being alive without a sense of identity. Erik Erikson
“Found in trees. Sometimes also in old silent movie theaters, seaside zoos, magic shops, hat shops, time-travel shops, topiary gardents, cowboy boots, castle turrets, comet museums, dog pounds, mermaid ponds, dragon lairs, library stacks (the ones in the back), piles of leaves, piles of pancakes, the belly of a fiddle, the bell of a flower, or in the company of wild herds of typewriters.
But mostly in trees.”
― Michelle Cuevas, Confessions of an Imaginary Friend
One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood. Seneca