going home...
death is going home...
if
I did bury "me, I, mine"
before
if
I did bury "me, I, mine"
before
the humble thing called love..
mornings and smiles.. sky and our path.. how could life be so easy and amazingly beautiful..
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Paul Varjak : You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself. Breakfast at Tiffany's, Truman Capote
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