We recently launched moonrise. Please Login or Join us to enjoy this site
"A man without decision can never be said to belong to himself." Foster, John W. | Decisions | 1 bookmarks
"A man without decision can never be said to belong to himself."
Foster, John W. | Decisions | 1 bookmarks
"Make decisions from the heart and use your head to make it work out." Girad, Sir | Decisions | 3 bookmarks
"Make decisions from the heart and use your head to make it work out."
Girad, Sir | Decisions | 3 bookmarks
"Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars, and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance." The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights like this, I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. She loved me, sometimes I loved her. How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her. The night is full of stars and she is not with me. That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away. My soul is lost without her. As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her. My heart searches for her and she is not with me. The same night that whitens the same trees. We, we who were, we are the same no longer. I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her. My voice searched the wind to touch her ear. Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once belonged to my kisses. Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes. I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her. Love is so short and oblivion so long. Because on nights like this I held her in my arms, my soul is lost without her. Although this may be the last pain she causes me, and this may be the last poem I write for her." Neruda, Pablo | Love Ended | 10 bookmarks
"Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars, and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance." The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights like this, I held her in my arms. I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. She loved me, sometimes I loved her. How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. To hear the immense night, more immense without her. And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her. The night is full of stars and she is not with me. That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away. My soul is lost without her. As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her. My heart searches for her and she is not with me. The same night that whitens the same trees. We, we who were, we are the same no longer. I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her. My voice searched the wind to touch her ear. Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once belonged to my kisses. Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes. I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her. Love is so short and oblivion so long. Because on nights like this I held her in my arms, my soul is lost without her. Although this may be the last pain she causes me, and this may be the last poem I write for her."
Neruda, Pablo | Love Ended | 10 bookmarks
"What is read twice is usually remembered more than what is once written." Johnson, Samuel | Memory | 2 bookmarks
"What is read twice is usually remembered more than what is once written."
Johnson, Samuel | Memory | 2 bookmarks
"Every man's memory is his private literature." Huxley, Aldous | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"Every man's memory is his private literature."
Huxley, Aldous | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"Memories are all we really own." Lieberman, Elias | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"Memories are all we really own."
Lieberman, Elias | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"When you are right no one remembers; when you are wrong no one forgets." Proverb, Irish | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"When you are right no one remembers; when you are wrong no one forgets."
Proverb, Irish | Memory | 1 bookmarks
"Cherish all your happy moments; they make a fine cushion for old age." Tarkington, Booth | Memory | 2 bookmarks
"Cherish all your happy moments; they make a fine cushion for old age."
Tarkington, Booth | Memory | 2 bookmarks
I'm male and made my book on 18th February 2007.
My feed
Help us improve Quotations Book
Close feedback
Type: feature request bug report feedback
Email:
Your comments: