Robert Louis Stevenson Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Robert Louis Stevenson Emojis & Symbols 𝑰𝒏 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓�

𝑰𝒏 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒔' 𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝑶𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓; 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝑩𝒚 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝑺𝒊𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆, 𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆; 𝑨 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝑰𝒏 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓. - 𝑹𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝕲𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖈 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖘 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔖𝔭𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔰 Essential in creating gothic atmosphere and unsettling the reader, gothic narratives are traditionally set in the ‘strange’ – places that are unfamiliar and faraway. Think crumbling castles, ancestral homes, religious dwellings, and long ago. Think places distant in time and space. 𝔖𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 The stereotypical gothic heroine is inquisitive and brave, and voraciously reads. She has beauty and purity and is thus a target. Whether a victim to fashion (those tight-laced corsets) or the female condition (I hope my tone is clear here), her defence in danger is the delicate swoon. Though she is likely to suffer, she is usually saved. 𝔖𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 Whether saviour to a swooning heroine (see above) or on adventures all their own, the gothic favours the anti-hero for its male lead. Often intellectual, perhaps academic, for him the human condition is heavy to bear. This long-suffering figure is flawed and doomed and may just reveal the monstrous in man. 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔶 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔰 Though gothic villains are slow to uncloak themselves, their mould has since been truly set. The shadowy stranger epitomises the fear of ‘other’. Often autocrat, aristocrat, male, and undefined ‘foreign’, he is a man out truly for himself. 𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔤𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔖𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰 All sorts of creatures make their home in gothic literature. There are ghosts, spirits, and apparitions; demons, the devil, and the dead returned; vampires, zombies, and apparent monsters. The supernatural may be metaphorical – a tool for subversion. It is frequently suggested as one thing and revealed to be otherwise, if there at all. 𝔖𝔲𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔲𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 The gothic tone is of fear: terror or horror, and halted breath. It is dread that creeps and suspicion that grows. Suspense builds in uncanny spaces, where everything is unnerving and nothing is as it seems. Often at odds with logic, rational thought is invited to leave as heightened senses are startled by the wind. 𝔖𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 Just as the narrative fiction aims to unsettle the mind of the reader, gothic protagonists are similarly disturbed. Nighttime casts shadows on certainty. Sleep, if achieved, is addled with nightmares. Waking hours, in turn, are similarly plagued. The concept of reality is toyed with as sanity and truth can no longer be presumed.

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👻🗡️⛓️𝓐𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷⛓️🚬🩸🔥
🏩🦠💉
⠀⠀⢀⡖⢦⡀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣠⣤⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⢦⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡇⢀⣤⣼⠓⠣⣟⠉⠙⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣇⣈⣉⣯⣄⣤⣏⣽⣀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⡾⠉⠀⠀⢹⣧⣶⣶⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣽⢷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡟⠀⠙⢷⣶⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠙⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠹⣮⢿⡀⠀ ⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⢰⣏⣙⣛⣁⣀⣀⣀⣘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣋⣛⣋⠤⠤⠤⢿⠛⣧⠀ ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣾⠀⢹⡆ ⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ мσσкιє ⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡶⠀⠀⣸⠇ ⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⢀⡟⠀ ⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⢷⡀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡻⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⢠⡾⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣀⠀⠉⠛⠓⠒⠒⠒⠚⠋⠁⣠⣤⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
‘𝕭𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖞𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕰𝖝𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝕸𝖞 𝕰𝖒𝖇𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑’ 𝖇𝖞 𝕰. 𝖁𝖊𝖌𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖞 A lesser demon in bespoke Pashmina boasting bone buttons And antler cufflinks The tailored suit shows the edges Of his skeleton Jutting and dangerously shaped An angel unaware of hierarchy Itches beneath the hair shirt That hides his ragged wounds Bare feet leaving bloody prints The name of his god is tattooed On the inside of his lower lip They meet in a calendar Which does not mark the week of creation The deep grey sky and the ash grey earth remember The war they have both forgotten Integrity Dishonesty The corrupt and the clean The sacred and the profane © Words by E. Vegvary, 2020.
| © Generally Gothic 𝕺𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝕸𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖞 No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; Make not your rosary of yew-berries, Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries; For shade to shade will come too drowsily, And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul. But when the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave, Or on the wealth of globed peonies; Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows, Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave, And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die; And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh, Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips: Ay, in the very temple of Delight Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine, Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine; His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung. – John Keats, 1820
𝙎𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎 Today. You smiled at me. Your voice rang through the phone, sentimental dreams shared. A crusader against my nightmares. I watched you blow out your birthday candles, silent whispers of divine wishes floating out with the call. Your wish was to no longer exist, amongst the cries of the sky. So, you held in your final goodbyes, keeping those words withheld, as the hit of grim made your world go dim. Today, We buried you.
girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following ~♥~ уσυ нανє тσ тαкє тнє gσσ∂ ωιтн тнє вα∂, ѕмιℓє ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂, ℓσνє ωнαт уσυ gσт αη∂ яємємвєя ωнαт уσυ нα∂. αℓωαуѕ ƒσяgινє вυт ηєνєя ƒσяgєт, ℓєαяη ƒяσм уσυя мιѕтαкєѕ вυт ηєνєя яєgяєт, ρєσρℓє ¢нαηgє, тнιηgѕ gσ ωяσηg, ѕσ נυѕт яємємвєя тнαт ℓιƒє gσєѕ ση...~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαηт тσ вє яємємвєяє∂ αѕ тнє σηє ωнσ αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓєѕ єνєη ωнєη нєя нєαят ιѕ вяσкєη, αη∂ тнє σηє ωнσ ωσυℓ∂ αℓωαуѕ вяιgнтєη υρ уσυя ∂αу, єνєη ωнєη ѕнє ¢συℓ∂η’т вяιgнтєη υρ нєя σωη ~♥~ ~♥~ ωє єηנσу ωαямтн вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ¢σℓ∂. ωє αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιgнт вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ιη ∂αякηєѕѕ. ву тнє ѕαмє тαкєη, ωє ¢αη єχρєяιєη¢є נσу...вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє кησωη ѕα∂ηєѕѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ ∂ση'т єνєя gινє υρ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ тяу, ∂ση'т єνєя ωιρє уσυя тєαяѕ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ ¢яу. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕєттℓє ƒσя αη αηѕωєя ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ кησω. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕαу уσυ ∂ση'т ℓσνє нιм ιƒ уσυ ¢αη'т ℓєт нιм gσ ~♥~ ~♥~ ƒσя єνєяу вєαυту тнєяє ιѕ αη єує ѕσмєωнєяє тσ ѕєє ιт. ƒσя єνєяу тяυтн тнєяє ιѕ αη єαя ѕσмєωнєяє тσ нєαя ιт. ƒσя єνєяу ℓσνє тнєяє ιѕ α нєαят ѕσмєωнєяє тσ яє¢єινє ιт ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ¢яα¢кѕ ιη тнє ¢ση¢яєтє яємιη∂ тнαт ησ мαттєя нσω ѕтяσηg уσυ αяє, уσυ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ƒαℓℓ αραят αт ѕσмє ρσιηт ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ~♥~ ~♥~ ηєνєя ƒяσωη...єνєη ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂ '¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη ѕσмєσηє'ѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ωιтн уσυя ѕмιℓє ~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαℓкє∂ тняσυgн тнє нαℓℓωαу нσℓ∂ιηg му ωяιѕтѕ, нσριηg ησ σηє ωιℓℓ ѕєє мє ℓιкє тнιѕ. нє ℓσσкѕ αт мє, ѕ¢αяє∂ ωнαт нє'ℓℓ ƒιη∂. нє ηєνєя тнσυgнт ι нα∂ тнєѕє тнιηgѕ ιη мιη∂. нє αѕкѕ мє, "...ιѕ тнєяє αηу мσяє؟" ℓσσкιηg αт нιм ωιтн тєαяѕ ιη му єуєѕ ι ωнιѕρєя α ѕιмρℓє яєρℓу,...'єνєя ωση∂єяє∂ ωнαт вяα¢єℓєтѕ ωєяє ƒσя'..؟ ~♥~ ~♥~ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє мυѕт вє нυят ιη σя∂єя тσ gяσω, ƒαℓℓ ιη σя∂єя тσ кησω, ℓσѕє ιη σя∂єя тσ gαιη. αη∂ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє нανє тσ вє вяσкєη ѕσ ωє ¢αη вє ωнσℓє αgαιη ♥~ ~♥~ ησт єνєη мαкє υρ ¢συℓ∂ мαкє нєя вєαυтιƒυℓ...вє¢αυѕє яєαℓ вєαυту ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм ℓσνιηg уσυяѕєℓƒ αη∂ тнαт'ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg ѕнє ¢αη ηєνєя ∂σ ~♥~ ~♥~ яєαℓ тєαяѕ αяє ησт тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє єуєѕ αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ƒα¢є вυт αяє тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє нєαят αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ѕσυℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ℓєαяη тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє тнє яαιηвσω αƒтєя ¢υяѕιηg тнє яαιη. ιт’ѕ נυѕт ℓιкє ℓσνιηg αgαιη αƒтєя єχρєяιєη¢ιηg тнє ραιη ~♥~ ~♥~ уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη уσυ ωιℓℓ ℓσѕє ѕσмєσηє, ѕσ gяαв тнєм αη∂ тєℓℓ тнєм тнαт уσυ ¢αяє ησω вє¢αυѕє ιт мιgнт вє тнє ℓαѕт тιмє уσυ ωιℓℓ єνєя вє αвℓє тσ ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ѕку ιѕη'т αℓωαуѕ вℓυє. тнє ѕυη ∂σєѕη'т αℓωαуѕ ѕнιηє. ѕσ ιт'ѕ σкαу тσ ƒαℓℓ αραят ѕσмєтιмєѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ мσѕт σƒ тнє ιмρσятαηт тнιηgѕ ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ нανє вєєη α¢¢σмρℓιѕнє∂ ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нανє кєρт ση тяуιηg ωнєη тнєяє ѕєємє∂ тσ вє ησ нσρє αт αℓℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє нєαят, тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє ѕσυℓ, тєαяѕ ƒяσм єνєяуωнєяє, тнєу тαкє ¢σηтяσℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg gяєαт, ησ σηє єνєя ѕєємѕ тσ яємємвєя, вυт ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg ωяσηg, ησ σηє ¢αη єνєя ѕєєм тσ ƒσяgєт ~♥~ girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following
Apr 25, 2013, 1:45 AM Lol honestly if you were still here I would be lookin towards dating you. You're so sweet and a really good friend and super beautiful. But you're so fat FAR!! I meant far lol
January 2, 2013 Messages I think we should see other people ... Roses are red Violets are blue U really thought I would cry over u? I said I loved you You thought that was true well guess what player You just got played to smartphOWNED.com
┍━━━‧̍̊˙· 𓆝. ୨ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵉʷ ୧ .𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊━━━┑ ♡┊ title : ♡┊ author : ♡┊ genre : ♡┊ rating : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ ♡┊ thoughts : ┕━━━━━━━━━━✃━━━━━━━━━━┙
so preppy baddies 🌸🌸🎀🏹🍡🫶🏼𓆉︎
ㄹㅁㄹㅁ
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-`ღ´-𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱-`ღ´- 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔨𝔶,𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫.𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔴𝔢’𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔰,𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱. 𝔑𝔬 𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔲𝔰,𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡,𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢—𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰. ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔞𝔶,𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢,𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.
“Si dovrebbe, almeno ogni giorno, ascoltare qualche canzone, leggere una bella poesia, vedere un bel quadro, e, se possibile, dire qualche parola ragionevole".
𝕭𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙, 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊, 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕, 𝖘𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒, 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖋, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙’𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖆𝖗. 𝕭𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌, 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖘 𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖉, 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘, 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊. 𝕷𝖊𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖞, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖞.
__ __ __ __ \_\ __ __ \_\ __ __ __ \_\ /_/ \/_/ /_/ \/_/ \_\ /_/ .-. \.-./ .-. .-./ .-. .-./ .-. .-\ .-. \.-./ .-. //-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_// \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\ __( '-' '-'\ '-' '-' /'-' '-'\__'-' '-'__/'-' '-'\__ /_/)) \__ __/\ \_\ /_/ \_\ ___\_// \_\ /_/ \__ ... /_/ (( \_\ {@} * {@} )) __ {@} * {@} * {@} __ // /_/ : * {@} * {@} * .; \_\_((_/___ /\\,/\\, ,-||-, /\\,/\\, {@} * {@} * {@} * {@} )) \_\ /| || || ('||| ) /| || || * ; * ; {@} * ; * : \\ || || || (( |||--)) || || || ;\ \ \ \| / / /; )) _ ||=|= || (( |||--)) ||=|= || \\ \ Y/ / / __ // /_/ ~|| || || ( / | ) ~|| || || `_\ |/ _' \_\_((_/ |, \\,\\, -____- |, \\,\\, / \\Y// \ \\ _- _- ( ,-}={-, ) )) _ \_//((\_/ __ // /_/ //))(\valkyrie \_\_(( When You Thought I Wasn't Looking..... (/ )) \\ (/ )) __ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first __ // /_/ painting on the refrigerator, and I wanted to paint another one \_\_((_/___ )) \_\ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray \\ cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals. )) _ __ // /_/ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite \_\_((_/ cake for me, and I knew that little things are special things. \\ )) __ When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer, __ // /_/ and I believed there is a God I could always talk to. \_\_((_/___ )) \_\ When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me \\ goodnight, and I felt loved. )) _ __ // /_/ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your \_\_((_/ eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all \\ right to cry. )) _ __ // /_/ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared \_\_((_/ and I wanted to be everything that I could be. \\ )) _ When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked . . . . __ // /_/ and I wanted to say thanks for all the things I saw when you \_\_((_/___ thought I wasn't looking. )) \_\ __ __ ~Author Unknown \\ __ __ \_\ __ __ \_\ __ __ __ __ )) \_\ /_/ \/_/ /_/ \/_/ \_\ /_/ \_\_(( .-. \.-./ .-. .-./ .-. .-./ .-. .-\ .-. \.-./ .-. \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_// \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\ 'dc\__'-' '-'\ '-' '-' /'-' '-'\__'-' '-'__/'-' '-'\__ \_\ \__ __/\ \_\ /_/ \_\ \_\ /_/ \__ \_\
Love SMS I ωιℓℓ ∂ιє вυт му ℓσνє ηєνєя … Iт ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ тσωαя∂ѕ тσ уσυ … Oηє яєQυєѕт ηєνєя ¢яу ƒσя мє ωнєη ι. ωιℓℓ ∂ιє … Oηє ωιѕн ∂ση’т ƒσяGєт мє αƒтєя му ∂єαтн … Oηє ƒα¢т ι ¢αη’т ѕтσρ мιѕѕιηG уσυ υηтιℓ м αℓινє !!! July 18, 2014 by Love Doctor
𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔢𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔘𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔶𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔶𝔢𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔞𝔦𝔫. 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢.
SUNDAY, JULY 12, 2009 YAADEIN... Holle se chupke se aati hain yaadein.. Ateet me hume kheench le jaati hain yaadein.. Koshish to ke the bhoolne ke aapko.. Par har koshish ko nakaam kar jaate hain yaadein.. Tez hawa ka jhonka bankar aati hain yaadein.. Is shaant zindagi me hulchul le aati hain yaadein.. Fir dheere se humara haath thaam kar.. Khwabon ke duniya me le jaati hain yaadein.. Kya maksad hai inka, kyu aati hain yaadein.. Beete hue baatein, dohraate hain yaadein.. Ab peeche reh gaya hai sab.. Aur chal pade hain hum.. Ab to yaadein he yaadein hain..yaadein he yaadein.. Bas yaad aati hain baatein.....yaad aati hain yaadein...... POSTED BY SAUMYA SHRIVASTAVA AT 3:02 AM
𝔄𝔪𝔬 𝔐𝔲𝔠𝔥𝔬 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥, 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔲𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔴. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯, 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪, 𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰. ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔬𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔪𝔶 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢, ℑ 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢.
. . . . . . . . . + . . . __ . . Be an adult, < > . //\\\\\\\\\\ || Not a kid. //|||\\\\\\\\\\ || . //|||||||\\\\\\\\\\ || Hit the toilet, . //||||||||||\\\\\\\\\\|| . . MM MMmmmmmmmm==` Not the lid! MM ( MMmmmmmmmm MM MMmmmmmmmm ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! MM o MMmmmmmmmm ! ! ! ! ! ! #--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--MM MMmmmmmmmm-#--#--#--#--#--# #--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--MM MMmmmmmmmm-#--#--#--#--#--# #==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==MM MMmmmmmmmm=#==#==#==#==#==# Date: 22 Dec 1994 07:25:33 GMT
Losing Carrie Carrie’s parents were deep in mourning They had lost their daughter, without warning Her mom moaned and wailed in deep sorrow Her dad would call the funeral home tomorrow Her mom looked down and in her head She wondered, if Carrie could, what she would have said If she could speak to them now, reach into their hearts Tell them how they would cope, where could they start? Her father looked down also and in his head His mind was racing with a sense of dread See, if Carrie could talk what she really would have said Is, ‘Mom, please help me, he knows I’m not dead.’
The Whisper Men : Do you hear the Whisper Men The Whisper Men are near If you hear the Whisper Men Then turn away your ear Do not hear the Whisper Men Whatever else you do For once you've heard the Whisper Men They'll stop... and look at you If you hear the Whisper Men And you are in their sight The presence of the Whisper Men Will mean for you 'Good night' Don't ignore the Whisper Men They're not just in your head Be fearful of the Whisper Men Ignore them.. and you're dead
────(♥)(♥)(♥)────(♥)(♥)(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ'ʀє αʟσηє, ──(♥)██████(♥)(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧα∂σѡ. ─(♥)████████(♥)████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт тσ cʀƴ, ─(♥)██████████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧσυʟ∂єʀ. ──(♥)████████████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт α ɧυɢ, ────(♥)█████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ρɪʟʟσѡ. ──────(♥)█████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ηєє∂ тσ ɓє ɧαρρƴ, ────────(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɱɪʟє. ─────────(♥)██(♥) ɓυт αηƴтɪɱє ƴσυ ηєє∂ α ƒʀɪєη∂, ───────────(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ʝυѕт ɓє ɱє.
Hidden by the Rustling Corn The shortcut through the Corn field tempts you as you’re walking home the clouds above keep the moon concealed As you enter the swaying corn, alone. - The corn grows tall and thick, my friend, the path you chose is muddy it grows in rows without scope or end and in the dark, you hurry - You don’t see the standing forms As you pass them on your way they stand still amongst the swaying corn which hides their pallor, and decay - hundreds gather in this field tonight though you see none at all yet still you look around in fright but the corn grows too thick, too tall - You tell yourself as you continue through “Its merely the rustling of the leaves,” But they see you, and they hear you, And they might not let you leave.
"𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈" - 𝒕𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕 - 𝒕𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕 search hiii_happeygirl for more <3
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Ľõŵʞęy ʄūçʞ ₂₀₂₀
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