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If there is one thing I can say without a doubt, it is that tragedy can make great music. Every single song I have ever written has been born of tragedy and heartache, and being able to make something beautiful out of pain is powerful. When you open your mouth to sing, you are triumphing over pain through music - the music itself can help you conquer your sadness. ↗
...the way a bubble will float along gracefully and let every colour shine from within it until it suddenly bursts and is never to be seen again. Maybe that is the beauty of beauty. It does not last and therefore, forces us to appreciate it whilst we still can. ↗
How beautiful would history have been if it could be written beforehand and then acted out like drama! ↗
A heart beats seventy-two times a minute. The blood that flows within the essence of life also becomes a compass that navigates through the uncharted waters of romance and eventually arrives at the port called LOVE.. ↗
Coyotes move within a landscape of attentiveness. I have seen their eyes in the creosote bushes and among mesquite trees. They have watched me. And all the times that I saw no eyes, that I kept walking and never knew, there were still coyotes. When I have seen them trot away, when I have stepped from the floorboard of my truck, leaned on the door, and watched them as they watched me over their shoulders, I have been aware for that moment of how much more there is. Of how I have only seen only an instant of a broad and rich life. ↗
Pine trees rise through cloud soar up into the blue skies, bush clover spangled with dewdrops sways in the autumn breeze; As I dip cold, pure water at the edge of the stream, a solitary white crane comes lolloping my way. ↗
Before there was an American Story, before Paterson spread before Oscar and Lola like a dream, or the trumpets from the Island of our eviction had even sounded, there was their mother, Hypatia Belicia Cabral: a girl so tall your leg bones ached just looking at her so dark it was as if the Creatrix had, in her making, blinked ↗
