I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
In spite of all, some shape of beauty moves away the pall, from our dark spirits.
Posted by
Spiros
at
15:31
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music
Posted by
Spiros
at
15:15
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music
http://www.clouds365.com
Posted by
Spiros
at
10:53
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art
Posted by
Spiros
at
22:30
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cinema
Literature that is not the breath of contemporary society, that dares not transmit the pains and fears of that society, that does not warn in time against threatening moral and social dangers—such literature does not deserve the name of literature; it is only a façade. Such literature loses the confidence of its own people, and its published works are used as wastepaper instead of being read.
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Spiros
at
00:17
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books
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