Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476468" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>And It's Funny How</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">And it's funny how we carry each other <br>within ourselves like mingled waters <br>that taste of the moon, <br>that taste of bruised orchids <br>in the shadow of all those glass greenhouses, <br>Eden in a Mason jar, <br>that learned to throw stones, <br>and mysteriously engaging <br>that we go on creating each other as we have <br>forever inseparably each on his own <br>alone together with everyone <br>wondering why we exist<br>to know one day we won't. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gates and roads and miles and whispers away <br>and a longing that can only be measured <br>in the lightyears of a star<br>and all the eras, all the trances of time <br>of passion and extinction, <br>of despair that turned on hope like a toxin <br>and hope that flared like the third man on a match <br>learning to brighten the stars <br>by deepening its darkness, <br>I have lived from eclipse to eclipse <br>like an unintelligible abyss who misses everyone<br>for the quality of breath and death and emptiness<br>that makes me me <br>when I want to be impossibly alone<br>and the memories have issues and agendas of their own <br>like a dead branch trying to witch for water at a window.<br> <br>Where are you now? <br>Who were you? <br>Have I survived? <br>Whose ashes are these? <br>Now I am the tree. And you are the wind <br>and the pursuit of nothing flows on endlessly like life and water.<br> <br>And all the lovely deserts that enhanced the moon<br>and coaxed me out of my old delirium<br>into a deeper one <br>by drinking the viper in the grail <br>they lifted to my lips like a gate <br>that everyone comes to like a stranger<br>prodigally returning to his own homelessness, <br>following the wind like a siren of sand<br>have slipped through my fingers like music, <br>though my voice still tastes of them<br>when I drink from their reflections, <br>not knowing whether I have become <br>a darkness in the light <br>or a light in the darkness<br>but grateful for the grander perspective<br>from the bottom of the well<br>where they showed me their stars at noon <br>and the sun at midnight <br>and how the fires that nourish love<br>cannot be put out like torches <br>in their own shadows<br>anymore than a bird can fall from its feathers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476468" data-title="And It's Funny How de Patrick White" data-description="And it's funny how we carry each other 
within ourselves like mingled waters 
that taste of the moon, 
that taste of bruised orchids 
in the shadow of all those glass greenhouses, 
Eden in a Mason jar, 
that learned to throw stones, 
and mysteriou..."></div>
</div>
</div>