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In fondo, mi trovo bene nella mia malinconia.
Forse perché una persona felice vive nella paura di diventare triste.
Mentre una persona che si è abituata alla tristezza, mal che vada, trova la felicità.

- Italy, 17

clubgeister: on We Heart It -

La bellezza.

Bright Star Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art– Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores, Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors– No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever–or else swoon to death.
-Jonh Keats-