
I'll give you two!
You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are?
You're chicken.
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, yet you're terrified that somebody's gonna put you in a cage.
Well, baby, you're already in a cage and you built it yourself.
And it's not bound on the east by Somali Land or on the west by Tulip, Texas.
It's everywhere you go.
Because no matter where you run, you're always going to end up running into yourself.
Breakfast at Tiffany's
Fireflies
Before you met me
I was a fairy princess
I caught frogs and called them prince
And made myself a queen
And before you knew me
I'd traveled 'round the world
And I slept in castles
And fell in love
Because I was taught to dream
I found mayonnaise bottles and poked holes on top
To capture Tinker Bell
And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye
But I could always tell
Cause I believe in fairy tales
And dreamer's dreams
Like bedsheet sails
And I believe in Peter Pan
And miracles, anything I can to get by
And fireflies
Now before I grew up I saw you on a cloud
And I could bless myself in your name
And pat you on your wings
And before I grew up
I heard you whisper so loud
Well life is hard and so is love
Child, believe in all these things
I found mayonnaise bottles and poked holes on top
To capture Tinker Bell
And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye
But I could always tell
Cause I believe in fairy tales
And dreamer's dreams
Like bedsheet sails
And I believe in Peter Pan
And miracles, anything I can to get by . .
And fireflies
And fireflies . . .
Before you met me I was a fairy princess
I caught frogs and called them prince
And made myself a queen
And before you knew me I'd traveled 'round the world
And I slept in castles
And fell in love
Because I was taught to dream
(Lyrics Faith Hill)
"It's like the smell of burnt toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's on the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the top of your hands. And in the morning, it's still there."
"Our capacity for great ideas is excelled only by our capacity to ruin them, to destroy what is good in them, to poison them, by taking them to extremes."
"The ability to relive past emotional states is both an aptitude and a curse. It's a curse because it doesn't allow you to get on with your life. Every cut, every bruise, every rejection, yields a harvest which is then stored. The pain is kept on ice and can be relied upon to taste as fresh as the day it was inflicted."
Elliot Perlman, Seven types of ambiguity
No comments:
Post a Comment