Familiar Quotations

O little booke, thou art so unconning,
How darst thou put thy?self in prees for drede?

Go, little booke! go, my little tragedie!

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.

i try to write
but I fail

there are too many things
inside my head

my soul thirsts for something

and sometimes it aches
when you feel the void

so i stop

i decide to sleep
and weave stories
in my dreams

At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool.