Sunday, April 10, 2011

emily dickinson

"Hope" is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

And sweetest-in the Gale is heard-
And sore must be the storm-
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land-
And on the strangest sea-
Yet- never- in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

elie wiesel

the opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.
the opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference.
the opposite of is faith not heresy, it's indifference.
the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.