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Archive for Febreiro 2009

I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You [...]

“The highest, as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean [...]

Soy capaz de engañarme con cualquier cosa, de verdad. Dame tu mano, y me entretendré con ella. Regálame una sonrisa, en un día soleado de principios de verano. Toma un café conmigo, y malgasta unos minutos de tu tiempo hablando de cosas que ya están habladas, riendo lo que ya [...]