Today, unlocking the room and stepping into its dusty embrace, it struck her — the bareness, the cobwebs in the corners, the dark squares on the walls where the maps had once hung, the intricately designed tiles disappeared in filth, the urn-less, roseless emptiness, the laughter that once was. Sighs everywhere, and echoes, the papery trail of ants through the ancient wood, the still, suspended sheets of dust, and through it all, those memories, still alive, still alive. Debotri Dhar
Sometimes things become possible if we want them bad enough.
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T.S. Eliot
It frightens me that I can't do anything sensible about it."" Are you scared that you'll wind up with a boring job where you have to see the same people every day and drink instant coffee?"" I'm more scared that I'll forget the feeling I...
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Gunnar Ardelius
The days aren't discarded or collected, they are beesthat burned with sweetness or maddenedthe sting: the struggle continues, the journeys go and come between honey and pain. No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net. They don't fall drop by drop from...
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Pablo Neruda
And, even yet, I dare not let it languish, Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain; Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish, How could I seek the empty world again?
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Anonymous
In visions of the night, like dropping rain, Descend the many memories of pain
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Aeschylus
More Quotes By Debotri Dhar
Today, unlocking the room and stepping into its dusty embrace, it struck her — the bareness, the cobwebs in the corners, the dark squares on the walls where the maps had once hung, the intricately designed tiles disappeared in filth, the urn-less, roseless emptiness, the...
