WTe would be nothing without our words, and without the papers that brace against their ephemerality.he cathartic nature must be spoken for also, because somehow writing manages to transcend my cynical nihilism (which is stronger than ever now at eighteen).
ВАоинственный Траян и мудрый Марк Аврелий…
В порфирах веющих, в мерцанье вечной славы
Грядут, блаженные!.. И складки длинных риз --
Подобны облакам… И тени смотрят вниз
На семихолмый Рим. Но в Риме -- смерть и тленье:
Потухлнтонин и Август величавый,
Its yarn held the scent of some long-ago rain, A hint of spent moments, a lingering pain. Perhaps a brief comfort, clutched tight in a hand, Or proof of a secret across this whole land. It spoke of a hurried departure, a flight, A mind far too heavy, lost deep in the night.
And when has fukuzawa treated someone lesser or bigger? Come on let me hear you say it. Go to good reads and read fukuzawa(the author)s notes it is literally(mostly)about everyone being equal everyone having the right to speak up(against the government) and that everyone can
One time in college I was really hungry, and I went to the dining hall with some friends to grab food. The person I was casually seeing was with us. I hadn't had time to eat that day, so that man sat and watched me house a whole pizza and then have some ice cream for dessert.
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