Thinglink
September 22, 2013
December 16, 2012
#26
"Hope" is the thing with feathers—That perches in the soul—And sings the tune without the words—And never stops—at all—And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—And sore must be the storm—That could abash the little BirdThat kept so many warm—I've heard it in the chillest land—And on the strangest Sea—Yet, never, in Extremity,It asked a crumb—of Me.
Emily Dickinson
August 26, 2012
February 22, 2012
January 25, 2012
January 22, 2012
October 12, 2011
October 7, 2011
October 5, 2011
October 4, 2011
September 30, 2011
September 28, 2011
September 27, 2011
September 26, 2011
September 24, 2011
September 22, 2011
September 19, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)