A beautiful spring day
Happened a fallen falcon
Left in the wind
And with it came
The forgotten embers of a
Ready, waiting, preying
You don't have to die a fighter to be a hero.
"We're all gonna die. We're gonna die, Alex. In the end, life shortens, and we're gone. Thats why we do things that makes us feel alive."
It still stuns me, to this day, that there are some people out there who don't enjoy reading, who the string of words and the scent of used pages in between the covers of a book don't give them any sort of pleasure. Who despise literature and art and love. Who dislike it for the sole reasoning that society does not like it. Reading isn't about what everyone else finds pleasure in - it may not be *** or food or sleep, but it's something, and few people hold dear to it. Reading is about what you like. Not everyone else - you. People hold to belief that words, though may pleasure some people, do not do anything for the world. They do not save lives or seek justice or help secure society or regulate a country and the needs of an individual. Sure, without professions like the medical and legal and political ones, there may be no lives, at all. But without books, without art and music and passion, there would be no love, and there would be no reason to live.
The heart was a delicate place. To scratch it was greater treason than regicide.
Your way of escaping was sleeping, or drinking. My way was books.
All the good moments are always unplanned