Tuesday, May 6, 2008

I will build you with stones of turquoise

In the still air the music lies unheard In the rough marble beauty leas unseen To make the music and the beauty needs The master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen great master touch us with your skillful hands Let not the music that is in us die Great sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let Hidden and lost your form within us lie


...Edgar Allan Poe

They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

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