Still, I look down, and the grass is so green, I cannot understand how it does not wither and die with sorrow. But against the emerald carpet, the warriors make war, and it is like a dance, almost beautiful, always macabre. The noise brings me back, the fearsome noise of swords striking swords, a metallic clanging that rings in my ears, echoing and echoing the fearsome din of men screaming and crying as they meet the sharp ends of blades.
I've got this image in my head of how I want my life to look, and I have absolutely no idea how to get there. And I'm so scared that I'll make some w… - Lisa Ann Sandell
I've got this image in my head of how I want my life to look, and I have absolutely no idea how to get there. And I'm so scared that I'll make some w…
- Lisa Ann Sandell
I watch her as she leaves. Everything about her is fluid as a river. Her messy hair, her xylophone voice, the strokes of her paintbrush. Even her cam… - Lisa Ann Sandell
I watch her as she leaves. Everything about her is fluid as a river. Her messy hair, her xylophone voice, the strokes of her paintbrush. Even her cam…
What place does a woman have here, in the realm of men? - Lisa Ann Sandell
What place does a woman have here, in the realm of men?
And at that moment, a lilting melody lifts to the moon as a single sparrow sings. - Lisa Ann Sandell
And at that moment, a lilting melody lifts to the moon as a single sparrow sings.
Merry Christmas, I whisper to myself. Merry Christmas, Nate. - Lisa Ann Sandell
Merry Christmas, I whisper to myself. Merry Christmas, Nate.
The song is languid and speaks of love and loneliness and loss. Why does love seem to go with the sad things? - Lisa Ann Sandell
The song is languid and speaks of love and loneliness and loss. Why does love seem to go with the sad things?
Love is a tempestuous mistress. And none of us shall ever master her. - Lisa Ann Sandell
Love is a tempestuous mistress. And none of us shall ever master her.
The birch trees loom ahead like a brotherhood of ghosts. - Lisa Ann Sandell
The birch trees loom ahead like a brotherhood of ghosts.
Still, I look down, and the grass is so green, I cannot understand how it does not wither and die with sorrow. ~Song of the Sparrow - Lisa Ann Sandell
Still, I look down, and the grass is so green, I cannot understand how it does not wither and die with sorrow. ~Song of the Sparrow
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