I spent my whole life helping my mother carry around her psychic trunks like a bitter bellhop. So a great load was lifted when she died, and my life was much easier.
Beauty and Truth, tho' never found, are worthy to be sought.
The earth is rocking, the skies are riven-- Jove in a passion, in god-like fashion, Is breaking the crystal urns of heaven.
I wander forth this chill December dawn: John Frost and all his elves are out, I see, As busy as the elfin world can be, Clothing a world asleep with fleecy lawn.
All that is beautiful shall abide, All that is base shall die.
Tho' the world could turn from you, This, at least, I learn from you: Beauty and Truth, tho' never found, are worthy to be sought, The singer, upward-springing, Is grander than his singing, And tranquil self-sufficing joy illumes the dark of thought. This, at least, you teach me, In a revelation: That gods still snatch, as worthy death, the soul in its aspiration.
That dark humor has always been a part of what I've done. It's always been somewhat tongue-in-cheek.
If I like you, I'm going to tell you. I'm a hugger, even with men: I'm just very deep.
Remembering from last year how Haymitch's gifts are often timed to send a message, I make a note to myself. Be friends with Finnick. You'll get food.
Every one of our passions and affections hath its natural stint and bound, which may easily be exceeded; whereas our enjoyments can possibly be but in a determinate measure and degree.