I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and now matter how I am discovered after what happens to me as I am discovering this.
I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face
All radiant and unshadowed of distress,
And as of old, in music measureless,
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace
Under the common thing the hidden grace,
And conjure wonder out of emptiness,
Till mean things put on beauty like a dress
And all the world was an enchanted place.
And then methought outside a fast locked gate
I mourned the loss of unrecorded words,
Forgotten tales and mysteries half said,
Wonders that might have been articulate,
And voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds.
And so I woke and knew that he was dead. Two Loves
by Lord Alfred Douglas
I dreamed I stood upon a little hill,
And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed
Like a waste garden, flowering at its will
With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed
Black and unruffled; there were white lilies
A few, and crocuses, and violets
Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries
Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets
Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun.
And there were curious flowers, before unknown,
Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades
Of Nature's willful moods; and here a one
That had drunk in the transitory tone
Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades
Of grass that in an hundred springs had been
Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars,
And watered with the scented dew long cupped
In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen
Only God's glory, for never a sunrise mars
The luminous air of Heaven. Beyond, abrupt,
A grey stone wall. o'ergrown with velvet moss
Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed
To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair.
And as I stood and marvelled, lo! across
The garden came a youth; one hand he raised
To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair
Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore
A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes
Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,
White as the snow on pathless mountains frore,
Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes
A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.
And he came near me, with his lips uncurled
And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,
And gave me grapes to eat, and said, 'Sweet friend,
Come I will show thee shadows of the world
And images of life. See from the South
Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.'
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, 'Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasent realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?' He said, 'My name is Love.'
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, 'He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.'
Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.'
The Holodomor memorial in Kyiv. one of the darkest pages in Ukraine's history;
Millions of men, women and children perished during the Ukrainian famine-genocide of 1932-1933, an atrocity perpetrated by Josef Stalin’s communist regime.
The 1932-33 famine took place as harvests dwindled and Josef Stalin’s Soviet police enforced the brutal policy of collectivized agriculture by requisitioning grain and other foodstuffs.
The Holodomor (death by hunger - Hunger-extermination ) by its geographical focus and intensity, is one of the greatest genocides in human history. It is an example of the deprivation of the human right to food and embodies the human rights violations suffered by the victims of communism around the world.
Ukraine's authorities continue their efforts to bury this historical truth, unfortunately....
This is The end
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land ...
Actually, the only time I ever tried to cultivate being sexy was when I read Peyton Place. I was about sixteen and I read that this guy's watching this woman walk and he can tell she's a good fuck by the way she walks. It's a whole passage. He's telling Allison McKenzie, "I know you're a virgin." And she says, "Well, how?" And he says, "I can tell by the way you walk." And I thought, Uh-oh, everybody knows! I was ashamed to be a virgin, so I tried to cultivate a fucked walk. I tried to figure out what it looked like. I figured I'd watch any hot woman I could. I mean, look at Jeanne Moreau. You watch her walk across the street on the screen and you know she's had at least a hundred men.
'Build a good name. Keep your name clean. Don’t make compromises, don’t worry about making a bunch of money or being successful - be concerned with doing good work and make the right choices and protect your work. And if you build a good name, eventually, that name will be its own currency.'
And what is an authentic madman? It is a man who preferred to become mad, in the socially accepted sense of the word, rather than forfeit a certain superior idea of human honor. So society has strangled in its asylums all those it wanted to get rid of or protect itself from, because they refused to become its accomplices in certain great nastinesses. For a madman is also a man whom society did not want to hear and whom it wanted to prevent from uttering certain intolerable truths.
I realize that homosexuality is a serious problem for anyone who is - but then, of course, heterosexuality is a serious problem for anyone who is, too. And being a man is a serious problem and being a woman is, too. Lots of things are problems.
(P.s Of course Lots of things are problems, maybe everything is problem in uncultured, uneducated, anti - human society... K. S)
Uruguay President Jose Mujica on his Country's Place in Latin America...
This Great Man ; Jose Mujica is the poorest president in the world.. It means people is great too, because they vote great, kind person!;)
Hi is very, very hard working president, but he knows; If president is "hard working", poor people is hard working, too.... very hard working, especially people in villages... but despite this, they are poor not rich, or richest or billionaires.... teachers and doctors and artists and poets are hard working people too, but they are poor... or poorest...
I LOVE YOU MR PRESIDENT, You are my president, too.
Archbishop of Dublin Diarmuid Martin cautioned Catholics against homophobia in a series of interviews over the weekend, warning that such behavior is an insult to God. “God never created anybody that he doesn’t love,” Martin told The Independent.
“Anybody who doesn’t show love towards gay and lesbian people is insulting God. They are not just homophobic if they do that — they are actually Godophobic because God loves every one of those people,” he said.
In a radio interview about Ireland’s upcoming referendum on same-sex marriage, the archbishop said that the country’s gay community “has suffered enormously” due to the culture of homophobia.
“Anyone who grew up in Ireland would have told jokes that were pointed at the gay community… it is part of the culture we grew up in, but we have to grow out of it.” The country’s anti-LGBT culture has been in the news over the past few weeks after a prominent activist delivered a damning speech about homophobia and an openly gay member of the Irish Parliament revealed he had been harassed, spit at, and even beaten because of his sexuality.
Martin responded thoughtfully when asked if the Catholic Church was a homophobic institution. “People in the Catholic Church may be homophobic. Certainly the teachings of the Catholic Church could be used by some people in a homophobic way, and we have to be very careful that that isn’t done.” He added that it was equally important not to demonize the church, which opposes the legalization same-sex marriage in Ireland. “Just because a person isn’t in favor of gay marriage doesn’t mean that one is homophobic — let’s be very clear on that.”
The archbishop said that the role of the church in this and all moral debates “is to present its teaching in its globality,” and propose the implementation of policies that are consistent with its teachings. The Catholic Church has a right to go out and say what it believes in the political sphere, he said, but it does not have the right to impose its teachings on individuals or society. “All of us have to be careful about the way we speak and the language we use,” he added.
It’s important to note that the archbishop is not deviating from church teaching by taking a stance against homophobia and discrimination toward the LGBT community (although one might debate his argument that opposing same-sex marriage is not a form of homophobia). The catechism of the Catholic Church instructs Catholics that gay men and women “must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided. These persons are called to fulfill God’s will in their lives.”
“Anybody who doesn’t show love towards gay and lesbian people is insulting God. They are not just homophobic if they do that — they are actually Godophobic because God loves every one of those people,” Yess! Homophobic people actually are Godophobic, , I believed it, actually they loves nobody... they living in hate, with hate, for hate!
What Priests thinks: Jesus was toilet paper if ?
Stupidity isn't funny, Stupidity is very dangerous, very evil... And churches is full of stupidity! how i can be tolerant after all with religious... How many war, how many segregation and discrimination and violence was under religious!:((
Jesus; "I tell you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who mistreat you and persecute you!" And What Priests thinks; Jesus was toilet paper if ???
And for them past dreadful religious history and reality still isn't enough, because they hate peace and love, equality and everything else - kindness!hey hate peace and love, equality and everything else - kindness! they needs more and much more violence and bloody in this world....
P.s If for you this priest is a christian, than your god is devil! your god is only stupidity!
Anti-Nazi Activist - Sophie Scholl was a member of the White Rose movement. 'This is inspiring real story of the young non-violent activist Sophie Scholl (Who defied Adolph Hitler!) and the White Rose group that intellectually resisted the Third Reich by distributing pamphlets and writing anti-Nazi graffiti at a time when doing so was treason, a personal hero of mine, let's learn from her and not let history repeat itself'....
Opposition to the Nazis - The White Rose really has a more symbolic value, very important value and not only symbolic..
Sophie Scholl's inspirational and life-affirming story is not just another story about the past. It is a story of vital importance in the present and about the future. It is a story of bravery, of personal conscience and of freedom of opinion. It is really a story of today, about you and me. We must never forget she was just 21 years old when she was killed by the Nazis, but she possessed a life-affirming personality no dictatorship could ever silence.'..
'The real damage is done by those millions who want to "survive." The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don't want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won't take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonizing their own weakness. Those who don't like to make waves — or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honor, truth, and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It's the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you'll keep it under control. If you don't make any noise, the bogeyman won't find you. But it's all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.'' * Isn't it bewildering … that everything is so beautiful, despite all the horrors that exist? Lately I've noticed something grand and mysterious peering into my sheer joy in all that is lovely — the sense of a Creator whom innocent creation worships with its beauty. Only man can be hateful or ugly, because he possesses a free will to cut himself off from the chorus of praise. It often seems that he will succeed in drowning out this chorus with his cannon thunder, curses, and blasphemy. But it has become clear to me this spring that he cannot. And so I must try to throw myself on the side of the victor..
'I am, now as before, of the opinion that I did the best that I could do for my nation. I therefore do not regret my conduct and will bear the consequences that result from my conduct.'
'Just because so many things are in conflict does not mean that we ourselves should be divided. Yet time and time again one hears it said that since we have been put into a conflicting world, we have to adapt to it. Oddly, this completely unchristian idea is most often espoused by so-called Christians, of all people. How can we expect a righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone who will give himself up undividedly to a righteous cause?'
'I've been thinking of a story from the Old Testament: Moses stood all day and all night with outstretched arms, praying to God for victory. And whenever he let down his arms, the enemy prevailed over the children of Israel. Are there still people today who never weary of directing all their thinking and all their energy, single-heartedly, to one cause?'
* I pity people who can't find laughter or at least some bit of amusement in the little doings of the day. I believe I could find something ridiculous even in the saddest moment, if necessary. It has nothing to do with being superficial. It's a matter of joy in life.
I know that life is a doorway to eternity, and yet my heart so often gets lost in petty anxieties. It forgets the great way home that lies before it. Unprepared, given over to childish trivialities, it could be taken by surprise when the great hour comes and find that, for the sake of piffling pleasures, the one great joy has been missed. I am aware of this, but my heart is not. It seems unteachable; it continues its dreaming … always wavering between joy and depression.
"God, you are my refuge into eternity".