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MUSIC, SELF, DREAM, GOOD NIGHT

      Music, Self:   ·        "I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me, clearing my soul of all fear and sin and reminding myself that I am always better than I think and stronger than I thought." ~ Paulo Coelho   ·        “No one can do it for you Choose to use your wings”   ·        “Those who don’t travel, don’t read, don’t listen to music, don’t find anything positive about themselves,... Dies slowly.” ~ Viktor brigade   DREAMS:   "Of course I believe in dreams. Dreaming is essential, it may be the only real thing that exists." ~ Jorge Luis Borges     GOOD NIGHT:   Do no t go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds migh

MUSIC, SELF, DREAM, GOOD NIGHT

 


 

 

Music, Self:

 

·       "I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me, clearing my soul of all fear and sin and reminding myself that I am always better than I think and stronger than I thought."

~ Paulo Coelho

 

·       “No one can do it for you

Choose to use your wings”

 

·       “Those who don’t travel, don’t read, don’t listen to music,

don’t find anything positive about themselves,...

Dies slowly.”

~ Viktor brigade

 

DREAMS:

 

"Of course I believe in dreams. Dreaming is essential, it may be the only real thing that exists."

~ Jorge Luis Borges

 

 

GOOD NIGHT:

 

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~ Dylan Thomas

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