When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high grav’d books, in charact’ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romanc
Les Grands Seigneurs Men were my buttresses, my castellated towers, the bowers where I took my rest. The best and worst of times were men: the peacocks and the cockatoos, the nightingales, the strutting pink flamingos. Men were my dolphins, my performing seals; my sailing-ships
An aside. This image reminds me of an attic record shop in Ormskirk where I used to buy records every week with my Saturday job money and first saw this memorable double gate cover sleeve to Pink Floyd’s now legendary Dark Side of the Moon. As I recall, my dad bought the albu
THE TREES are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones 5 Are nine and fifty swans. The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well
They had been playing cards for hours and the fire was low. The boy smiled strangely as he turned over his last card. ‘But that’s not a card we play with!’ his Uncle cried. You are not playing Uncle, the cards are playing you. And he uncovered his hand.
We all like telling each other stories about our lives and this is how we share aspects of who and what we are. We connect with others and with ourselves through storytelling as stories shape and reshape our life narratives. Story telling is not a secondary aspect of our lives.It is
All stories are ghost stories at heart, even the heartless ones! (I have now posted another FREE analysis of Susan Hill’s Woman in Black on Tusitala. AND A FREE WOMAN IN BLACK VIDEO OFFERING ESSAY IDEAS BELOW! Click here for more help with your essays on The Woman in Black! ) F