Succumbing finally, she lets out a loud shriek as her vehicle stops at a red light. __uck._ She hollers cursing the night. Cursing the shadows, cursing the unknown condemned she intends to meet this evening. Tears roll down her cheeks landing on her bullet proof vest.
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,Since the world can in no way answer our craving,I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat.
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And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,Since the world can in no way answer our craving,I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat.
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I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness?__rom the covenant of peace a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born.
Ah, cruel fate, how swiftly joy and sorrow alternate!
Sorrow and self-pity consume enormous quantities of energy. If you only can desist from feeling victimized by fate and look for a new solution instead, not only would you conserve old energies but at the same time also feel the surge of the new. New hope is kindled in the process.
Here is a commandment for you: seek happiness in sorrow. Work, work tirelessly.