Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. (W.B. Yeats)
Here lies that which is inside no more, that which burns my mind and must be expelled. Here lies the greatest of all inventions. Here lies words.
One day you will Ms Nona 😊. I loved these four simple lines. I almost feel like there is a yearning there.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Angelo. Yearning mixed with resignation, perhaps.
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