Tag: dreams

  • 151: delay dims thrust

    Like many such days designed and pressed with expectation, I relent rather to dormancy’s caramel tenure, that calculation has exhausted the hands would earn their bread. And it is not before the sheer that I bend; I reserve no energy for homecomings, and storm or mountain perchance be-damned if we but departed forthwith. I’m intent […]

  • 124: When it rains

    It arrives odd hours my sweeping inspirations; a torrential outpouring that, warrantless rains hard with no remark to my good pattern and springs me from recess semi-witted, into duty. A catch or two o’ the break would keep me in high cheer and portly health for days, and so fretting about the cabin, sought a […]

  • 114: Going

    This is the last night in your own bed for some time, and there is an alveolus melancholy unfolds your repose; when strange pillows will nestle ambling thoughts. But you’ve craved long this new trouble, like secrets of saccharose, and must let wash over you its mastery implied. The stars now will hold your dreams, […]

  • 95

    Our deepest desires are not hidden, but lying in wait at the end of a long trying road which, trudging forward, suddenly you will come upon and wonder how.

  • 93

    No Spring will come to whom does not bring it along, nor sleep, whom does not dream.

  • 81: Greetings again, September

    The air is a blanket woven with gleeful murmurings and Spring light, as all of Nature’s children have awoken from Wintertide dreams, and climbing from their buds are rehearsing their powers, until a doting sun would lift them up.

  • 77: The loveliness of long life

    Few things entreat my curiosity like the uncompelled and contented every man, who sleeps entire nights and no dream after permits to filter unremarkable days. How nice, in some respects, must immortality be.

  • 75

    Every Artist is a lone, celestial emissary of change.

  • 42

    Perseverance is the bridge between where you are now and everything you have ever wanted.

  • 32

    How lovely is, even the very word dream, that though one may but flirt across the outskirts of its cotton plains and candy fields, surely some scent of loveliness still sits upon the lapel, and joins thee a little further up the hill.