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impulse from a vernal wood — LiveJournal


Dec. 23rd, 2015 @ 01:21 am
Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is for Werner Herzog or Michael Haneke to make a movie about the 1922 Hinterkaifeck murders.

Kthx, Lil

Posted using TxtLJ (http://www.livejournal.com/manage/sms/) Jul. 24th, 2009 @ 05:20 pm
My friends are the best in the world. They make me cry. ...I'm not worthy. lol

Posted using TxtLJ (http://www.livejournal.com/manage/sms/) Jul. 22nd, 2009 @ 11:31 am
Home from the hospital yesterday, in an unbelievable mere eight days. Sore but happy to be here.

Posted using TxtLJ (http://www.livejournal.com/manage/sms/) Jun. 17th, 2009 @ 06:14 am
Walked in a soft dim damp early morning, exquisite. Found a broken pale egg with tiny dessicated bird embryo within. My heart overflowed with wonder and loss.

Posted using TxtLJ (http://www.livejournal.com/manage/sms/) Jun. 7th, 2009 @ 10:39 pm
Playing cards with parents. "...In other words, what I'm trying to say is, I just played that beautifully. As usual." --Dad
Other entries
» (No Subject)
'Spring Song'
(Lucy Maud Montgomery, 1874–1942)

Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south!
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.

In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist,
And the river's orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst.

Every limpid brook is singing
Of the lure of April days;
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays.

Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils,
Giving to the golden weather
Greetings on the sun-warm hills.

Ours shall be the moonrise stealing
Through the birches ivory-white;
Ours shall be the mystic healing
Of the velvet-footed night.

Ours shall be the gypsy winding
Of the path with violets blue,
Ours at last the wizard finding
Of the land where dreams come true.
» (No Subject)
I just watched Camille Claudel and now I want to drink myself to death. God!
» (No Subject)
"There are lots of ways of being miserable, but there's only one way of being comfortable, and that is to stop running round after happiness. If you make up your mind not to be happy there's no reason why you shouldn't have a fairly good time." (from "The Last Asset" by Edith Wharton)
» (No Subject)
"God is a comedian playing to an audience too afraid to laugh." (Voltaire, 1694-1778)

» (No Subject)
Hallowe'en wraps fear in innocence,
As though it were a slightly sour sweet.
Let terror, then, be turned into a treat...

(Nicholas Gordon)
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