The past is the past for a reason
That is where it is supposed to stay
But some cannot let it go
In their heads it eats away
My friend tells me
a man in my house jumped off the roof
the roof is the eighth floor of this building
the roof door was locked how did he manage? Continue reading
How gayly is at first begun
Our Life’s uncertain Race!
Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun,
With which we just set out to run
Enlightens all the Place.
I count each day a little life,
With birth and death complete;
I cloister it from care and strife
And keep it sane and sweet.
A man doesn’t have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn’t have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
Life is the body’s light; which, once declining,
Those crimson clouds i’ th’ cheeks and lips leave shining:-