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  1. #21
    Administratore Maska e Fiori
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    Umberto Eco - Baudolino

    "...but now back to my storey of when I was in the Frescheta woods there specially when theres real fog when you cant see the tip of your nose dont see them coming then I have visions like that time when I saw the unicorn and the other time when I saw Saint Baudolino who spoke to me and said sonofawhore youre going to Hell because the unicorn story goes like this everyboy knows that to hunt a unicorn you have to put a girl whose still a virgin at the foot of a tree and the animal smells the virgin smell and comes and puts his head in her lap so I took Bergolio's Nena who had come with her father to buy my fathers cow and I said to her come into woods with me and well hunt the unicorn then I put her under the Tree because I was sure she was a virgin and I said to her sit still like this and spread your legs to make room for the animal's head and she asked spread like this and I said there right there and I touched her and she began making some noises like nanny goat dropping a kid and I lost my head and had something like a napocalips and afterwards she wasn'tre pure like a lily anymore and she said o my god now how will we make the unicorn come and just then I heard a voice from Heaven said that the unicorn qui tollis peccata mundis was me and I started jumping around the bushes and crying hip heee frr frrr because I was happier than a real unicorn because I had put my horn in the virgin's lap and this was why Saint Boudolino had called me son et setera but then he forgave me and I caught site of him other times but only if there is plenty of fog or if it isn't bright like to scorch everything...."

  2. #22

    The Catcher in the Rye

    One of my favourite books is The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.
    If your english is good then I suggest you read it :)
    Here are some quotes from it..


    I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful. If I'm on my way to the store to buy a magazine, even, and somebody asks me where I'm going, I'm liable to say I'm going to the opera. It's terrible.

    When I really worry about something, I don't just fool around. I even have to go to the bathroom when I worry about something. Only, I don't go. I'm too worried to go. I don't want to interrupt my worrying to go.

    Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
    If homosexuality is a disease, let's all call in queer to work: "Hello. Can't work today, still queer."

  3. #23
    ÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆÆ
    Anėtarėsuar
    26-02-2003
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    1,349

    !

    Scientistic philosophy is unaware, not only of the 'Divine Presences’, but also of their rhythms or 'life; it is ignorant not only of the degrees of reality and the fact of our imprisonment in the sensory world ,but also of the cycles, the universal solve et coagula; that is to say it knows nothing either of the 'gushing forth' of our world from an invisible and effulgent Reality, or of its re-absorption into the 'dark' light of this same Reality.
    All the Real is in Invisible; it is this above all that must be felt or understood before one can speak of knowledge and effectiveness. But this will not be understood, and the human world will continue inexorably on its course.
    Frithjof Schuon
    ¤Dimensions of Islam¤

  4. #24
    Larguar.
    Anėtarėsuar
    30-11-2004
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    1,506
    Ē’do tė thotė tė kesh menēuri politike, tė kesh prirje, tė jesh njė gjeni politike, apo dhe tė jesh thjesht politikisht kompetent, ē’ėshtė tė dish pėr tė bėrė tė ecin gjėrat ? Ndoshta pėrgjigjen do t’a gjejmė nė njė shqyrtim tė diskutimeve tona tė veta kur ne denoncojmė apo ankohemi pėr politikanė qė n’a duken tė privuar nga kėto cilėsi. Ne vajtojmė nganjėherė qė ato tė jenė tė verbuar nga paragjykimet apo nga pasioni, por tė verbuar nė raport me ēfarė ? Ne themi qė ato nuk e kuptojnė epokėn e tyre, qė ato i rezistojnė diēkaje qė ne e quajmė « logjika e fakteve », qė ato tentojnė pėr t’u rikthyer prapa, qė « historia luan kundėr tyre », qė ato janė tė pagdhendur apo tė paaftė pėr tė mėsuar, apo dhe qė ato janė idealistė pa asnjė sens praktik, vizionarė, utopistė tė hipnotizuar nga ėndrra e njė tė kaluare pėrrallore apo e njė ardhmėrie tė parealizueshme.
    Tė gjitha kėto shprehje dhe kėto metafora duken tė presupozojnė qė ka diēka pėr tė ditur (mbi tė cilėn kritika ka ndonjė ide), diēka qė kėta persona, nga pafatėsia, nuk kanė arritur pėr t’a mbėrthyer, qoftė kėtu fjala pėr lėvizjen e pandalshme dhe tė pandėrrueshme tė njė lloj lavjerrėsi kozmik, apo tė njė lloj dispozicioni tė gjėrave, nė kohė dhe nė hapėsirė, apo nė njė mjedis akoma mė tė mistershėm – « mbretėria e mendjes » apo « realiteti i fundit » - qė duhet kuptuar nė rradhė krejt tė parė nėse duam tė shmangim zhgėnjimet.
    Por cila ėshtė natyra e kėsaj dije ? A ėshtė ajo njė dije shkencore ? A ka me tė vėrtetė ligje pėr t’u zbuluar, rregulla pėr t’u mėsuar ? A mund t’u mėsohet burrave tė shtetit diēka si njė shkencė politike – shkenca e relacioneve tė qenieve njerėzore ndėrmjet tyre dhe me mjedisin e tyre – e cila do tė ishte e ndėrtuar, siē shkencat e tjera, nga njė sistem hipotezash tė nėnshtruara ndaj verifikimit, tė organizuara sipas ligjesh, e cila tė pėrtėritet vazhdimisht dhe tė lejojė pėr tė zbuluar fakte tė reja, dhe pėr tė formuluar hipoteza tė tjera ?


    Isaiah Berlin "Ē'ėshtė njė gjykim i saktė politik ?"

  5. #25
    i/e c'regjistruar
    Anėtarėsuar
    26-01-2005
    Postime
    170
    Chantal thinks: I've become the erotic idol of a beggar. Now, there's a joke of an honor. Then she corrects herself: why should a beggar's desires be any less worthy of respect than those of a businessman? Since they're hopeless, the beggar's desires have one feature that's beyond price: they are free and sincere.

    Identity, Milan Kundera

  6. #26
    Administratore Maska e Fiori
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    Citim Postuar mė parė nga Angel Lust
    One of my favourite books is The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.
    If your english is good then I suggest you read it :) [/I]
    E nisur nga sugjerimi mė lart e mora librin para dy tre orėsh nė librari dhe tani jam nė tė mbaruar. Vetėm kam qeshur gjithė mbasditen : ) E qeshura tė zgjat jetėn thonė. Faleminderit...

    Women kill me. They really do. I don't mean I'm oversexed or anything like that - although I am quite sexy. I just like them, I mean. They're always leaving their goddam bags out in the middle of the aisle.

    ...some of these very stupid girls can really knock you out on a dance floor. You take a really smart girl, and half the time she's trying to lead you around the dance floor, or else she's such a lousy dancer, the best thing to do is stay at the table and just get drunk with her.

  7. #27
    in bocca al lupo Maska e Leila
    Anėtarėsuar
    25-04-2003
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    2,556

    "Fury" by Salman Rushdie (2001)

    "... Life is fury, he'd thought. Fury -- sexual, oedipal, political, magical, brutal -- drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths. Out of furia comes creation, inspiration, originality, passion, but also violence, pain, pure unafraid destruction, the giving and receiving of blows from which we never recover. The Furies pursue us; Shiva dances his furious dance to create and also to destroy. But never mind about gods! Sara ranting at him represented the human spirit in its purest, least socialized form. This is what we are, what we civilize ourselves to disguise -- the terrifying human animal in us, the exalted, transcendent, self-destructive, untrammeled lord of creation. We raise each other to the heights of joy. We tear each other limb from f*cking limb."
    trendafila manushaqe
    ne dyshek te zoterise tate
    me dhe besen e me ke
    dhe shega me s'me nxe

  8. #28
    Administratore Maska e Fiori
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    "Lady Chatterley's Lover" - D. H. Lawrence


    "Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habits, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

    ...

    The arguments, the discussions were the great thing: the love-making and connection were only a sort of primitive reversion and a bit of an anti-climax. One was less in love with the boy afterards, and a little inclied to hate him, as if he had trespassed on one's privacy and inner freedom. For, of course, being a girl, one's whole dignity and meaning in life consisted in the achievement of an absolute, a perfect, a pure and noble freedom. What else did a girl's life mean? To shake off the old and sordid connections and subjections.
    And however one might sentimentalize it, this sex business was one of the most ancient, sordid connections and subjections. Poets who glorified it were mostly men. Women had always known there was something better, something higher.

    ...

    L'amour avait passč pat lą..."

  9. #29
    R[love]ution Maska e Hyllien
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    Great Expectations

    Great Expectations
    Charles Dickens

    Libri ka shume pjese te bukura, por te shkeputura nga konteksti shumica humbasin kuptimin.

    If you can’t be uncommon through going straight, you’ll never get to do it through going crooked.
    ------------
    ...I felt that the kiss was given to the coarse common boy as a piece of moeny might have been, and that it was worth nothing.
    ------------
    It is not possible to know how far the influence of any amiable honest-hearted duty-doing man flies out into the world; but it is possible to know how it has touched one’s self by going by....
    ------------
    ...I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.

    ------------

    ‘It seems,’ said Estella very calmly, ‘that there are sentiments, fancies – I don’t know how to call them – which I am not able to comprehend. When You say you love me, I know what you mean , as a form of words; but nothing more. You address nothing in my breast, you touch nothing there.
    (Sepse kjo "ne vend te zemres kishte nje cope akull", thote Dickens nga goja e Estelles)
    "The true history of mankind will be written only when Albanians participate in it's writing." -ML

  10. #30
    R[love]ution Maska e Hyllien
    Anėtarėsuar
    28-11-2003
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    Great Expectations
    Charles Dickens

    (Pip, Estelles:) Put me aside for ever – you have done so, I well know – but bestow yourself on some worthier person than Drummle. Miss Havisham gives you to him, as the greatest slight and injury that could be done to the many far men who admire you, and to the many few who truly love you. Among those few, there may be one who loves you even as dearly, though he as not loved you as long, as I. Take him, and I can bear him better, for your sake!

    (Sepse kjo "ne vend te zemres kishte nje cope akull", thote Dickens nga goja e Estelles)
    Shih ēfare i thote ky, hiē kjo. :D

    (Estella:) ‘You will get me out of your thoughts in a week.’

    (Pip:)‘Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to be displaced by your hands, than you will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you!’
    "The true history of mankind will be written only when Albanians participate in it's writing." -ML

  11. #31
    i/e regjistruar Maska e elen
    Anėtarėsuar
    07-01-2005
    Vendndodhja
    United States of Albania
    Postime
    919
    Parandjenjat jane zhytjet e shpejta te shpirtit ne ate shtrese boterore te jetes ku istorite e gjithe njerezve lidhen me njera tjetren dhe mund te mesojme gjithcka sepse te gjitha jane te shkruara nga fati.

    Kur ditet ngjajne te tera njelloj domethene se njerezit kane ndaluar te kuptojne gjerat e mira qe paraqiten ne jeten e tyre.C do here kur dielli pershkon qiellin ,kur dashurojme ,deshirojme gjithmone te behemi njerez me te mire nga c jemi.
    PAULO KOELIO ALKIMISTI
    Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway

  12. #32
    i/e c'regjistruar
    Anėtarėsuar
    26-01-2005
    Postime
    170

    Alcesti:

    Ngado i tradhetuar, padrejtesisht m'sulmojne
    Do zhdukem nga ky pus ku veset triumfojne
    Dhe do kerkoj ne bote nje vend, sado te mjere
    Ku, duke qene i lire, te mund t'jetoje me nder




    Moliere, Le Misanthrope
    perkthyer nga Prokop Gjergo

  13. #33
    Buena Suerte Maska e MI CORAZON
    Anėtarėsuar
    21-07-2002
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    The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger.

    "One other thing I just thought of. One time, in this movie, Jane did something that just about knocked me out. The newsreel was on or something, and all of a sudden I felt this hand on the back of my neck, and it was Jane's. It was a funny thing to do. I mean she was quite young and all, and most girls if you see them putting their hand on the back of somebody's neck , they're around twenty -five or thirty and usually they're doing it to their husbands or their little kid . I do it to my sister Phoebe once in a while , for instance.
    But if a girl's quite young and all and she does it, it's so pretty it just about kills you."


    P.S. Thanks Fiori & Angel Lust. :)
    Where does a thought go when it's forgotten?

  14. #34
    Dostojevski - Le Notti Bianche (Nete te bardha)


    ..."Oh, Nasten'ka, Nasten'ka! sapete per quanto tempo mi avete riconciliato con me stesso? sapete che ora non penserņ tanto male di me come facevo in altri momenti? Sapete che forse non mi angoscerņ pił per aver comesso un delitto e un peccato nella mia vita, perché una vita del genere č un delitto e un peccato? E non pensate che abbia esagerato in qualcosa, in nome di Dio, non pensate Nasten'ka, perché a volte mi capitano dei momenti di una tale angoscia, di una tale angoscia...Perché in quei momenti gią inizia a sembrarmi che non sarņ mai capace di cominciare a vivere una vera vita; perché ho gią avuto l'impressione di aver perso ogni misura, ogni senso della realtą, della autenticitą; perché, infine, ho maledetto me stesso; perché dopo le mie fantastiche notti mi capitano ormai momenti di ritorno alla realtą che sono terribili! Nel frattempo senti rumoreggiare e turbinare in un vortice vitale una folla di gente intorno a te, senti,vedi la gente vivere, - vivere nella realtą, vedi che nella vita per loro non č proibita, che la loro vita non si dilegua come un sogno, come una visione, che la loro vita si rinnova di continuo, č di continuo giovane e nessun suo momento č simile ad un altro, mentre č triste e monotona fino alla trivialitą la timorosa fantasia, schiava dell'ombra, del pensiero, schiava della prima nuvola che d'improvviso vela il sole e colma di angoscia un autentico cuore pietroburghese, che tanto ha caro il proprio sole, - e quale fantasia c'č ormai nell'angoscia! Sento che alla fine si stanca, si esaurisce in un'eterna tensione, quella inesaurabile fantasia, perché ti fai uomo, perdi i tuoi precedenti ideali: essi si frantumano in polvere, in pezzi; se non hai un'altra vita, allora ti tocca costruirla con quei pezzi. Ma nel frattempo l'anima chiede e vuole qualcos'altro! E il sognatore fruga invano, come nella cenere, nei suoi vecchi sogni, cercando in quella cenere almeno una scintilla, per soffiarci sopra, per scaldare al fuoco rinnovato un cuore ormai freddo e ridestare in esso tutto ciņ che prima gli era caro, che toccava l'anima,che faceva ribollire il sangue, che strappava le lacrime dagli occhi e ingannava tanto magnificamente! sapete, Nasten'ka, a cosa sono arrivato? sapete che sono gią costretto a celebrare l'anniversario delle mie sensazioni, l'anniversario di ciņ che prima mi era cosģ caro, che in realtą non č mai esistito, - perché quell'anniversario si festeggia sempre secondo gli stessi stupidi sogni incorporei, - e a farlo perché anche quegli stupidi sogni non ci sono, visto che non hanno di che sopravvivere: perché anche i sogni si consumano! Sapete che ora amo ricordare e visitare ad una data precisa quei luoghi in cui un giorno sono stato felice a modo mio, amo costruire il mio presente nell'eco di un passato gią irrecuperabile, e spesso vago come un'ombra, senza necessitą e senza scopo, cupo e triste per gli angoli e le strade di Pietroburgho. Quali ricordi! Mi viene in mente,per esempio, che proprio qui, esattamente un anno fa, esattamente di quest'epoca, a quest'ora, su questo marciapiede, vagavo solo e cupo proprio come ora! E ricordi che anche allora i sogni erano tristi, e se anche prima non andava meglio, pur tuttavia senti sempre che in qualche modo era pił facile e pił quieto vivere , che non c'erano questi pensieri neri, che ora mi opprimono; che non c'erano questi rimorsi, rimorsi cupi, tetri, che ora non mi danno pace né di giorno, né di notte. E ti chiedi: dove sono mai i tuoi sogni? e scuoti la testa, dici: come volano in fretta gli anni! E di nuovo ti chiedi: cosa hai fatto dei tuoi anni? dove hai sepolto il tuo tempo migliore? Hai vissuto o no? Guarda, ti dici, guardo come il mondo č diventato freddo. Passerano altri anni, e cono loro arriverą la tetra solitudine, arriverą con le grucce la malferma vecchiaia, e con loro l'angoscia e lo sconforto. Si farą pallido il tuo mondo fantastico, moriranno, appassiranno i tuoi sogni e cadranno, come foglie ingiallite dagli alberi...Oh, Nasten'ka! sarą triste restare da solo, competamente da solo, e non averne nemmeno cosa rimpiangere - niente, assolutamente niente...perché tutto ciņ che ho perduto, tutto ciņ, era tutto un niente, uno stupido e tondo zero, era solo un sogno!"...
    U let him hold a gun 2 ur head during sex?I thought u were a feminist
    Usually he takes the clip out

  15. #35
    failed & quoted Maska e IsiNYC
    Anėtarėsuar
    27-08-2003
    Vendndodhja
    mbi dhe, nden qiell
    Postime
    227

    I'll start the first one =)

    My favorite book is : The Unbearable Lightness of Being
    Author : Milan Kundera

    Synopsis
    The book revolves around Thomas, the main character, and his interactions with the other characters of the book. The setting is in Prague around the time of the Russian Invasion (1968-ish). Thomas is incontrolably unfaithful and his wife Tereza even morso insecure because of his lack of monogamy. You will find someone to identify with in this book. Almost all human character traits are covered by one of the main characters of the book.

    Why I Liked It.
    The book is brutally honest when describing emotions and feelings. Although this may sound dull and maybe even redundant, Kundera's method of showing every perspective of a certain situation is done seamlessly and seems as if its a continuation of the story instead of the same event seen through other eyes. Its beautiful, poetic but simple, and therein lies its' genius! If you have time read the first 3-4 chapters, I guarantee you won't be able to put it down. It is an intellectual tour de force. (admittedly borrowed words)
    Ndryshuar pėr herė tė fundit nga IsiNYC : 20-09-2005 mė 15:03
    A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. | Nietzsche

  16. #36
    Administratore Maska e Fiori
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    Dream Tales and Prose Poems - Ivan Turgenev


    The Skulls


    Sumptuous, brilliantly lighted hall; a number of ladies and gentlemen.

    All the faces are animated, the talk is lively. . . . A noisy conversation is being carried on about a famous singer. They call her divine, immortal. . . . O, how finely yesterday she rendered her last trill!

    And suddenly -- as by the wave of an enchanter's wand -- from every head and from every face, slipped off the delicate covering of skin, and instantaneously exposed the deadly whiteness of skulls, with here and there the leaden shimmer of bare jaws and gums.

    With horror I beheld the movements of those jaws and gums; the turning, the glistening in the light of the lamps and candles, of those lumpy bony balls, and the rolling in them of other smaller balls, the balls of the meaningless eyes.

    I dared not touch my own face, dared not glance at myself in the glass.

    And the skulls turned from side to side as before. . . . And with their former noise, peeping litke little red rags out of the grinning teeth, rapid tongues lisped how marvelously, how inimitably the immortal . . . yes, immortal . . . singer had rendered that last trill!




    p.s. Qesha kur lexova postimin tėnd helios. Fare rastėsisht, kėto ditė jam duke lexuar "The best short stories of Dostoevsky" tė cilat fillojnė pikėrisht me "White Nights"/"Netė tė bardha".

  17. #37
    i/e regjistruar Maska e LoZar
    Anėtarėsuar
    25-02-2003
    Vendndodhja
    ne vendin me romantik te botes
    Postime
    109
    Me falni por meqenese i keni shkruar kto fragmente dmth se i keni lexuar......na boni nji ner te vogel shkrujini ne shqip edhe pse te marra nga libra te huaj qe mos te lodhemi me fjalor perpara ne te tjeret qe marrim vesh veten turqisht.

    Faleminderit.
    "...coloriamo la vita per non sprofondare nel buio"

  18. #38
    Administratore Maska e Fiori
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    Tek forumi i hapur ka njė temė tė tillė nė shqip. Pėr mė shumė shko kėtu. Ky ėshtė forumi "Krijime nė gjuhė tė huaja".

    Arsyeja pėrse fragmentet janė nė gjuhė tė huaja, ėshtė sepse dhe librat janė lexuar nė gjuhė tė huaja.


    Fiori

  19. #39
    R[love]ution Maska e Hyllien
    Anėtarėsuar
    28-11-2003
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    The Art of Loving
    Erich Fromm

    "...what most people in or culture mean by being lovable is a mixture between being popular and having sex appeal."

    "Our whole culture is based on the appetite for buying, on the idea of a mutually favorable exchange... “Attractive” usually means a nice package of qualities which are popular and sought after on the personality market... Two persons thus fall in love when they feel they have found the best objects available on the market, considering the limitations of their own exchange values."

    "...the sexual act without love never bridges the gap between two human beings, except momentarily."


    "The deepest need of man is the need to overcome his separateness, to leave the prison of his aloneness. The absolute failure to achieve this aim means insanity..."

    "Most people are not even aware of their need to conform. They live under the illusion that they follow their own ideas and inclinations, that they are individualists, that they have arrived at their opinions as the result of their own thinking – and that it just happens that their ideas are the same as those of the majority. The consensus of all serves as a proof for the correctness of “their” ideas."

    "The unity achieved in productive work is not interpersonal: the unity achieved in orgiastic fusion is transitory: the unity achieved by conformity is only pseudo-unity. Hence they are only partial answers to the problem of existence. The full answer lies in the achievement of interpersonal union, of fusion with another person, in love."

    ...ky eshte vetem fillimi i librit :)

  20. #40
    Unquestionable! Maska e Cupke_pe_Korce
    Anėtarėsuar
    24-06-2002
    Postime
    1,602
    THE RAIN IS A HANDSOME ANIMAL

    Whereupon I seize a train and suddenly I am in Paris toward night, in Mai. Along the river trees are letting go scarcely and silently wisps, parcels of incense, which drop floatingly through a vista of talking moving people; timidly which caress hats and shoulders, wrists and dresses; which unspeakingly alight upon the laughter of men and children, girls and soldiers. In twilight these ridiculous and exquisite things descendingly move among the people, gently and imperishably. People are not sorry to be alive. People are not ashamed. People smile, moving gaily and irrevocably moving through twilight to The Gingerbread Fair. I am alive, I go along too, I slowly go up the vista among the hats and soldiers, among the smiles and neckties, the kisses and old men, wrists and laughter. We all together irrevocably are moving, are moving slowly and gaily moving. Intricately the shoulders of us and our hats timidly are touched by a million absurd hinting things; by wisps and by women and by laughter and by forever:while, upon our minds, fasten beautifully and close the warm tentacles of evening.

    e.e.cummings
    Summertime, and the livin' is easy...

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