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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #donne
It's just a great, legendary comic book hero and it's one that has never been kind of been brought back to life after Lynda Carter. I mean, it's a reinvention. When Tim Burton reinvented Batman after Adam West, and when Donner reinvented Superman after George Reeves, it's time to do that with Wonder Woman. ↗
Lo aveva accolto nella sua vita senza riserve. Non gli aveva chiesto rinunce. Gli aveva aperto la casa, l’ufficio, perfino le carte del lavoro. Un altro, al posto suo, e soprattutto lui stesso, pensava, avrebbe fatto i salti di gioia. Invece Livio si sentiva privato di una cosa importante. Ad ogni incontro con lei si accorgeva di dipendere un altro po’ dalla sua bocca chiusa, da quel secondo posto accettato con naturalezza. Come se la certezza che l’assetto della sua vita non fosse minacciato da Dorina, invece di rassicurarlo, gli mettesse dentro l’inquietudine. Quante volte, nel salutarla per andarsene, la guardava cercandole uno straccio di rancore. Quanto avrebbe dato per un’alzata di sopracciglia, una smorfia da niente. Per non sentirsi addosso quella ridicola infelicità. ↗
#donne #infelicità #love #love
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry; But where's that wiseman, that would not be I, If she would not deny? Then as th' earth's inward narrow crooked lanes Do purge sea water's fretful salt away, I thought, if I could draw my pains Through rhyme's vexation, I should them allay. Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce, For he tames it, that fetters it in verse. But when I have done so, Some man, his art and voice to show, Doth set and sing my pain; And, by delighting many, frees again Grief, which verse did restrain. To love and grief tribute of verse belongs, But not of such as pleases when 'tis read. Both are increased by such songs, For both their triumphs so are published, And I, which was two fools, do so grow three; Who are a little wise, the best fools be. ↗
Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know’st that this cannot be said A sin, or shame, or loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, we are met, And cloisterd in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me, Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee. ↗
