Mertcan Bulak

‘And oh, if e’er I should forget, I swear – But that’s impossible and cannot be. Sooner shall this blue ocean melt to air,     Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea Than I resign thine image, oh my fair Or think of anything excepting thee.
Reklam
Well – well, the world must turn upon its axis,     And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,     And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails.
Mertcan Bulak
Bir kitabı okumaya başladı
Don Juan
Don JuanLord Byron
8.3/10 · 186 okunma

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1232 syf.
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25 günde okudu
The Bonehunters
The BonehuntersSteven Erikson
0/10 · 1 okunma
I accept no authority other than my own will, the desires I choose to act upon, and the judgements I make for myself.
Reklam
The truth of futility was the hardest truth of all, and for those clear-eyed enough to see it, there was no escape.
All that unfolds in the mortal realm gives shape to the ground upon which the gods walk. Thus, they are never certain of their stride. It falls to us to prepare the footfalls, to dig the deep, deadly pits, the traps and snares.
288 syf.
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4 günde okudu
Byron: Poems
Byron: PoemsLord Byron
0/10 · 1 okunma
And now ’twas done – on the lone shore were plighted Their hearts; the stars, their nuptial torches, shed Beauty upon the beautiful they lighted: Oceans their witness, and the cave their bed, By their own feelings hallow’d and united, Their priest was Solitude, and they were wed: And they were happy, for to their young eyes Each was an angel, and earth paradise.
She loved, and was beloved – she adored, And she was worshipp’d; after nature’s fashion, Their intense souls, into each other pour’d, If souls could die, had perish’d in that passion.
Reklam
Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication: Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of life’s strange tree, so fruitful on occasion!
Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.
All who joy would win must share it Happiness was born a twin.
Ambition was my idol, which was broken Before the shrines of Sorrow, and of Pleasure; And the two last have left me many a token O’er which reflection may be made at leisure.
I have no more to say, but linger still, And dare not set my seal upon this sheet, And yet I may as well the task fulfil. My misery can scarce be more complete: I had not lived till now, could sorrow kill; Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet.
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