He who binds himself to a joy Does the winged life destroy; But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity’s sun rise.
“You and I know (don’t we?), there is a thing and the idea of it. An other, an envy that looks human — more than, I give it such luster even it takes the air out of me — a self and an idea of it and another.”
Alyssa Morhardt-Goldstein | Nympholepsy
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