December 2009
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Invictus
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and...
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“Life itself consists of phases in which the organism falls out of step with the...”
– John Dewey, “Art as Experience” (from a post at The Blog of Innocence, via crashinglybeautiful)
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Wilderness Gothic
Across Roblin Lake, two shores away, they are sheathing the church spire with new metal. Someone hangs in the sky over there from a piece of rope, hammering and fitting God’s belly-scratcher, working his way up along the spire until there’s nothing left to nail on— Perhaps the workman’s faith reaches beyond: touches intangibles, wrestles with Jacob, replacing rotten...
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ohaithar:
Speechless - Lady Gaga
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my-ear-trumpet:
heymikewaskom:
Foggy Mountain...
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“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some...”
– George Orwell (via booklover, owlswallowvowels, libraryland and jakebrichardson)
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A Journey Round My Skull's tumblr →
arsvitaest says: A supplement to one of my favorite blogs
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Angie Baby - Helen Ready
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andthemonster:
California Dreaming - Mamas and...
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