"There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence- banished is banish’d from the world,
And world’s exile is death.”
Sonnet for a Tango in the Twilight
Who was it that said it all in a homegrown tango
Whose drawn-out, lovely sweetness made me pause
Under some unassuming little balconies
In that leafy neighborhood that isn’t even yours?
All I know is that in its sorrow I saw a simple yard
Within whose earthen walls the whole sunset fit,
A place I’d glimpsed a few months ago in some slum,
And that I loved you more than ever, hearing it.
Caught in that music, I stayed there on the sidewalk
Facing the lonesome moon, the heart of the street,
In the relentless wind that came down driving the night.
That infinite tango pulled me toward everything,
Toward the fresh stars. Toward the chance of being a man,
And toward that clear memory my eyes kept seeking.
Jorge Luis Borgesloverofbeauty)
"Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course. The world would create new religions overnight. We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead, the stars come out every night and we watch television."Paul Hawkens (via thatkindofwoman)
“Just Good Friends” by James Needham
12 months of neon love