“ Be not the slave of your own past―plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so you shall come back with new self-respect, with new power, and with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old. —Ralph Waldo Emerson ”
this format was made by partie! please only use this for your QUOTES on WITTYPROFILES.COM and do not remove ANY part of the credit; that includes this credit right here and any credit that follows (c) partie Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it’s over, you feel like you don’t have any bones left to hold you up.
we have to get used to the idea that no one cares as much as us, because guess what, they don't. succeed, fail, whatever, no one is going to give you a pat on the back for spending all hours of the day studying or researching, or giving up everything to write. so we've got to just do it for ourselves.
“ I finally figured out that I’m solitary by nature, but at the same time I know so many people; so many people think they own a piece of me. They shift and move under my skin, like a parade of memories that simply won’t go away. It doesn’t matter where I am, or how alone—I always have such a crowded head. —Charles de Lint ”
I drunk dial God sometimes. Say I still love Him when He knows it’s just a lie ‘cause I moved religions when you baptized me that one night when I dove between your thighs. So I’ve been worshiping your knees before I was born. Been sinning on purpose just so you could have an excuse to forgive me. On Sundays I am practicing my faith by tucking your hair behind your ear. Reciting prayers with my tongue inside your cheek. On Mondays I go to church, I am lighting you candles, I am kissing your feet. Will it be enough for you to show that you exist? That we were real? Here are my hips, it is my offering, take it. Have mercy. I am weak for you. Oh, god, come back, come back to me, please. I have never believed in anything as much as I believed in us. No miracle now can save me. Will you take me in? Are you there? Are you listening? — DRUNK DIALING GOD
I have a need of silence and of stars; Too much is said too loudly; I am dazed. The silken sound of whirled infinity Is lost in voices shouting to be heard. I once knew men as earnest and less shrill. An undermeaning that I caught I miss Among these ears that hear all sounds save silence, These eyes that see so much but not the sky, These minds that gain all knowledge but no calm. If suddenly the desperate music ceased, Could they return to life? or would they stand In dancers' attitudes, puzzled, polite, And striking vaguely hand on tired hand For an encore, to fill the ghastly pause?