I'm very girly. I love to talk about diets, exercise, kids, make-up.
Into the sunset's turquoise marge The moon dips, like a pearly barge; Enchantment sails through magic seas, To fairland Hesperides, Over the hills and away.
And some by hours; Some measure days by dreams And some by flowers; My heart alone records My days and hours.
There are haunters of the silence, ghosts that hold the heart and brain.
When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock, And the brown bee drones in the rose, And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock, And summer is near its close, It's, Oh!, For the gate, and the locust lane; And dusk, and dew, and home again!
What magic shall solve us the secretOf beauty that's born for an hour?
Some shall reap that never sowAnd some shall toil and not attain.
The thing one reads and likes, and then forgets, is of no account. The thing that stays, and haunts one, and refuses to be forgotten, that is the sincere thing.
You planning top kill me with a Wiffle bat?" [Carson asked] "Yeah. " "Why?" he asked. The bat was shaking in my tight grip. "Because I don't have my Minnie Mouse pillow.
Momma kept a garden, which sounds romantic to people who have never held a hoe
Forget about trying to stabilize the personal sense of Self. It is inherently unstable. See that the Self watches this.