"Silence is a true friend who never betrays."- Confucius


"Silence is a true friend who never betrays."
- Confucius

0 notes

"The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness." - Carl Jung

"The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness."
- Carl Jung

4 notes

"Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality." - Beatrix Potter

"Thank goodness I was never sent to school; it would have rubbed off some of the originality."
- Beatrix Potter

"A sculptor is a person who is interested in the shape of things, a poet in words, a musician by sounds." - Henry Moore

"A sculptor is a person who is interested in the shape of things, a poet in words, a musician by sounds."
- Henry Moore

1 note

 ”Deserve your dream.”- Octavio Paz

 ”Deserve your dream.”
- Octavio Paz

"Don’t let your sins turn into bad habits." - Saint Teresa of Avila

"Don’t let your sins turn into bad habits."
- Saint Teresa of Avila

2 notes

"We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of the dream." - Arthur O’Shaughnessy

"We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of the dream."
- Arthur O’Shaughnessy

"Happiness comes from… some curious adjustment to life."- Hugh Walpole

"Happiness comes from… some curious adjustment to life."
- Hugh Walpole

62 notes


Finale
The fallen petals of the rose, The fallen feathers of the dove, And the time of swiftly-falling snows, Are strewn on the tomb of Love.
A shroud of soft and silent snows Covers his body - he is dead: The fallen petals of the rose, Are strewn about his head.
And yet Love died before the rose, Long ere the snows began to fall; And now, the soft white silent snows Become his funeral pall.
- Count Eric Stanislaus Stenbock

Finale

The fallen petals of the rose,
The fallen feathers of the dove,
And the time of swiftly-falling snows,
Are strewn on the tomb of Love.

A shroud of soft and silent snows
Covers his body - he is dead:
The fallen petals of the rose,
Are strewn about his head.

And yet Love died before the rose,
Long ere the snows began to fall;
And now, the soft white silent snows
Become his funeral pall.

- Count Eric Stanislaus Stenbock