When you can’t find it on Google.

Month: August 2011

  • Sonnet I by Fernando Pessoa

    Whether we write or speak or do but look We are ever unapparent. What we are Cannot be transfused into word or book. Our soul from us is infinitely far. However much we give our thoughts the will To be our soul and gesture it abroad, Our hearts are incommunicable still. In what we show…