No man is an island

"Petrus Cynicus" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...

> You mean nothing
>

Right.
That can't be cured.
Morgen, zondag, in de Meerbeekse VIP-tent - be there!

Uncle's idiot

"John Donne" <[email protected]> schreef in bericht
news:[email protected]...
> "No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me,
> because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for
whom
> the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
>
> John Donne


Juist uitgedrukt.
En heel toepasselijk.

hedwig

John Donne tikte:

> "No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes
> me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to
> know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
>
> John Donne

En anders wel:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

"John Donne" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> "No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me,
> because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for
whom
> the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

*** How 'bout this ;

The Sharp and open
Leave me alone
And sleeping less every night
As the days become heavier and weighted
Waiting
In the cold light
A noise
A scream tears my clothes as the figurines tighten
With spiders inside them
And dust on the lips of a vision of hell
I laughed in the mirror for the first time in a year
A hundred other words blind me with your purity
Like an old painted doll in the throes of dance
I think about tomorrow
Please let me sleep
As I slip down the window
Freshly squashed fly
You mean nothing
You mean nothing

R. Smith

PC

--
P e t r u s C y n i c u s

Gothic Philosopher
[email protected]

"True friends stab you in the front" - Oscar Wilde

"Uncle's Werkgroep" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> Right.
> That can't be cured.
> Morgen, zondag, in de Meerbeekse VIP-tent - be there!


*** Hey ik ben Poirot niet eh... wie komt ? Curiosity ?
*checking* no...

Ik wou naar Diorama & VNV in Gent... Enlighten me...

PC

--
P e t r u s C y n i c u s

Gothic Philosopher
[email protected]

"True friends stab you in the front" - Oscar Wilde

"No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

John Donne

"Petrus Cynicus" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
>
> Ik wou naar Diorama & VNV in Gent... Enlighten me...
>


Don't worry, Petrus.
Alleen 1 lid van uncle's Werkgroep zal in Willy Verlé's (1 goeie vriend van
uncle zaliger) VIP-tent aanwezig zijn.
Doe zoals uncle zoude gedaan hebben: spit je moestuin om met 1 Polet-spade -
terwijl die obsolete Ronde van Vlaanderen voorbijraast.

Iskarioth

"Iskarioth" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> Don't worry, Petrus.
> Alleen 1 lid van uncle's Werkgroep zal in Willy Verlé's (1 goeie vriend
van
> uncle zaliger) VIP-tent aanwezig zijn.
> Doe zoals uncle zoude gedaan hebben: spit je moestuin om met 1
Polet-spade -
> terwijl die obsolete Ronde van Vlaanderen voorbijraast.


*** Tja... wat heeft dat met The Cure te doen, vraag ik me dan af eh...

PC

--
P e t r u s C y n i c u s

Gothic Philosopher
[email protected]

"True friends stab you in the front" - Oscar Wilde