La vita` e bella -Is Italian for LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL-
  • Sam, One Tree Hill (via nataliecastle)
  • :PORCUPINE  by Alison Price

    The other day I tried to give myself a phobia. Not a very big one, just a small one, based on something I’m already a bit leery about.

    It didn’t work.

    Besides being relieved, because who wants to go through life with an extra phobia or two lying around, I wondered.

    I wondered…


    Why do…

  • By Alison Price

  • ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

    Tell me by JACK bARNOSKYjackbarnosky:

  • You are there, you will be there

    When the skies darken, when the lightning strikes the sacred ground around me

    When all seems lost to me, tell me

    that the things I see are mere shadows

    ghosts, of what is real tell me

    I am not alone, I see your face,

    feel your warmth, across the years, 

    I can feel your body



    against mine, never be lost

    to me




  •                           Rainbow Bridge

  • By unknown

  • Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food , water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

    All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remembered them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

    They all run and play together, but the day suddenly comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster, and faster.

    You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

  • Unknown
  • I wrote to you of tomorrows,
    but I’m still stuck in yesterdays,
    and I wrote to you of permanence,
    but nothing in life is destined to stay.

    So I wrote to you of myself,
    but I don’t know who I can be,
    and then I laid down this inky pen
    and simply asked for you to forgive me. 

    You wrote to me of todays,
    but you longed for tomorrows,
    and you whispered of shortened time,
    saying it was only something to borrow. 

    You wrote to me of your heart,
    but you didn’t know of its fragility,
    and when I laid down my inky pen,
    you answered me with, “I’m sorry”.

    Where is it, then, that our story rests,
    if not in either of our chests ?

  • They noticed, you see, that I was a noticing
    kind of person, and so they left the dictionary
    out in the rain and I noticed it,
    I noticed it was open to the rain page,
    much harm had come to it, it had aged to the age
    of ninety-five paper years and I noticed rainbow
    follows rain in the book, just as it does on
    earth, and I noticed it was silly of me to
    notice so much but I noticed there is no stationary
    in heaven, I noticed an infant will grip your hand like
    there is no tomorrow, while the very aged
    will give you a weightless hand for the same reason,
    I noticed in a loving frenzy that some are hemlocked
    and others are not (believe me yours unspeakably obliged),
    I noticed whoever I met in my search for entrance
    into this world went too far (but that was their
    destination) and I noticed the road followed roughly
    the route of a zipper around a closed case,
    I noticed the sea was human but no one believed me,
    and that some birds have the wingspan of an inch
    and some flowers the petal span of a foot yet the two
    are very well suited to each other, I noticed that.
    There are eight major emotional states but I forget
    seven of them, I can hear the ambulance singing
    but I don’t think it will stop for me,
    because I noticed the space between the waterfall and
    the rock and I am safe there, resting in
    the cradle of all there is, the way a sea horse
    (when it is tired) will tie its tail to a seaweed
    and rest, and there has not been, in my opinion,
    enough astonishment over this fact, so now I will
    withdraw my interest in the whole external world
    while I am in the noticing mode, notice how I
    talk to you just as if you were sitting on my lap
    and not as if it were raining, not as if there were
    a sheet of water between us or anything else.

    “After Rain,” Mary Ruefle  (