echo

Everywhere man blames nature and fate, yet his fate is mostly but the echo of his character and passions, his mistakes and weaknesses.

Just Echo.

The desperate piercing scream of horror echoed far above the sharpened tops of the trees wrapped in thin obsidian-transparent mist, and I startled jerkily, tripping again, and almost collapsed onto the cold moist ground.

Life__ harrowing echo only to be faded into exiled loneliness

I__ looking for youin the bare corridor where my shadow is the only passerbyharmonizing an unsettling whisper: echoed through my chiming thoughtsFrom the poem 'Looking For You

That echo. It played in his head at unexpected moments, repeating certain sounds and making nonsense of them. But could you remember an echo? Memory itself was like another kind of echo, everything duplicating endlessly, in shadow versions of itself.

Sometimes I hear the echo of your voice in an empty hall and it reminds me that you're gone.

Anything said is gone as soon as it leaves my lips. Things written down at least have a chance to leave a soft echo of what had been.

Nothing is ever over when it is alive inside a human heart. You'll always be an echo in my words.

When you speak, your words echo only across the room or down the hall. but when you write, your words echo down the ages.

Words never fade away but echo on for eternity. Let your echo ring sweet.

I scream out the ropes of words that bound my tongue, and the heavens echo back...'I love you'.

Strong words resonate.

I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all.

A word into the silence thrown always finds its echo somewhere where silence opens hidden lexicons.

Your true friends echo your own philosophies back at you.

What you listen in heart, are echoes of the past.What you write today, will be echoed in the future.

People nowadays talk about the world's problems like they're reading lines off a teleprompter. They recite what they're told and echo it without thinking. It has become easier to divide people than to unify them, and to blind them than to give them vision. We are no longer unified like a bowl of Cheerios. Instead, we have become as segregated as a box of Lucky Charms. Every day we see the same leprechauns on TV acting like they're the experts of everything.