To Delight In The Joy Of Others Is The Hallmark Of The Lonely Spirit.

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The night sound of sand on sand, the rustling of ancient books, the call to prayer in the crumbling city. All left behind, and all coming back, and all already here.The sunken city will howl through our dreams again: The City of the Old Ones, The Pillars, The Forgotten.

History doesn’t remember everything, history forgets too. Names lost in the sands, how many things buried in the bottom of the hourglass?

Learning in itself should be the goal, not earning money.

Be a fool, and learn.

I dreamed I spoke in another’s language, I dreamed I lived in another’s skin, I dreamed I was my own beloved, I dreamed I was a tiger’s kin. I dreamed that Eden lived inside me, And when I breathed a garden came, I dreamed I knew all of Creation, I dreamed I knew the Creator’s name. I dreamed–and this dream was the finest– That all I dreamed was real and true, And we would live in joy forever, You in me, and me in you.

Clive Barker, Days of Magic, Nights of War   (via mysharona1987)

Beautiful!

Whoever said that I was brave enough to face all this?

[Record scratch] [Freeze frame] Verily, that is me. Abraham, chosen one of God. Thou art probably wondering how I came to be in that situation.

Our knees rattle as a prayer, should our voices fail to speak.