“Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire.”
IN THE TENTH YEAR OF THE PANDEMONIUM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
PBird's Most Visited Posts In The Past Year
-
Its envy you know. For we just may be a mythic race. Born into the soporific fifties, smug time of the world. We had the questions. The an...
-
"I'm just passing through." –Mawskrat ᪥ Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God.... No man, ...
-
It's been quite a year, this 2024, hasn't it? There has been turmoil and angst, with some very great blessings also. Much... -
( I was thinking a while ago what it would be like if our phones could, of their own volition, pipe up and speak to us. What if they ... -
%20(1).jpg)
Since Roops said it was time to go, they went. No more horsing around now. They rode straight and fast out of town, o... -
Alexander Max Koester (German, 1864-1932) Moulting DucksDate: ca. 1900 Medium: Oil on canvas Object Dimensions: 28 3/8 x 51 3/8 in. (72.07... -
.jpg)
🤍 Our friend Mr. Baby Sir is a top-level expert at taking it all in stride. He has the essentials down. The cat knows when to tak... -
.jpg)
I wondered how I had managed to get sick out here around only two other people and some animals. By evening I was fine. Next morning I st... -
Happy New Year! 2024 WOW! Maybe not this much of a party though. Wheee! It's sure nice to wake up early, or almost still early and mee...
-
🤍 A favorite photo. Mary Ruth Olson/Jettie G. What a treat it was to know her! She was so very full of life, and fun. But of co...
No comments:
Post a Comment