One thunderbolt strikes
root through everything.
Heraclitus, fragment from On Nature
It’s a fact. A fellow wouldn’t mind seeing it washed up if he could just turn on the rain himself.
Who is the man can do that? Where is the color of his eyes?
Ay. The Lord made it to grow. It’s His’n to wash up if he sees it fitten so.
William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
The earth is round, like an orange.
Gabriel García Márquez , 100 Years of Solitude
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email: meris.cd@gmail.com
inquiries: stellarhighway
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root through everything.
Heraclitus, fragment from On Nature
It’s a fact. A fellow wouldn’t mind seeing it washed up if he could just turn on the rain himself.
Who is the man can do that? Where is the color of his eyes?
Ay. The Lord made it to grow. It’s His’n to wash up if he sees it fitten so.
William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
The earth is round, like an orange.
Gabriel García Márquez , 100 Years of Solitude
email: meris.cd@gmail.com
inquiries: stellarhighway
