Garden...?
Thursday, December 09, 2004
"Our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners. So that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry - why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions. But we have the reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal strings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call love, to be a sect or scion."
- Iago in Othello -
travelled around the world at 8:45 AM
Quote
Blank pages anxiously await the words
They so desperately need to feel alive.
Encasing thoughts that are dying to be heard
Screaming out the things we often try to hide
The beauty of verse, the power of prose.
Filling the world with profound emotion.
Thoughts & feelings, every nerve is exposed.
Tossing us into the depths of a chaotic ocean.
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