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=476875" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Someone's Cut The Tongues Out Of The Bells Tonight</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Someone's cut the tongues out of the bells tonight. <br>Even the silence isn't singing to itself. <br>The windows are generously tolerant of intruders <br>but I'm locked into the splendour of my isolation<br>empathizing with things I don't love.<br>Full moon. Fruit moon. Moon of berries and grain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought I'd be happier at this time in my life, <br>but I'm threshing a harvest of shadows <br>for having sowed all my wild oats on the moon. <br>I'm intrigued by the fragrance of occult raptures on the air. <br>Dark intensities that can only end in immolation. <br>Black roses that only bloom in fire. Mystic disobedience <br>that lifts the flesh and blood taboos off <br>whatever comes to it naturally <br>as a late night 24-7 convenience store <br>or the fire that started in the kitchen of the Chinese restaurant <br>three doors down from my apartment yesterday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Late night moods. The mind dogpaddling in its immensities. <br>Heritage town standing down from its fieldstones.<br>No drunks on the street, and all those angry voices <br>I didn't recognize, gone home to sleep off their disappointment. <br>I sit like an air traffic comptroller mindwatching <br>behind these panes of glass as Arcturus goes down<br>over the tar paper rooftops I poetically associate <br>with clouds, stars, seagulls and hand-held mirrors of rain <br>after a thunderstorm has shattered its reflection in them<br>like a love affair that wasn't going anywhere.<br> <br>Doing time on earth, but of little consequence. <br>The bank across the street makes me feel depreciated.<br>Ask me this moment what legacy I've left <br>for the half century I've laboured creatively here <br>and I'd probably answer indignantly, a garage sale, <br>then reassure you by saying, for a good cause, <br>and mostly mean it, and partially wish I didn't.</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=476875" data-title="Someone's Cut The Tongues Out Of The Bells Tonight de Patrick White" data-description="Someone's cut the tongues out of the bells tonight. 
Even the silence isn't singing to itself. 
The windows are generously tolerant of intruders 
but I'm locked into the splendour of my isolation
empathizing with things I don't love.
Full moon. Fr..."></div>
</div>
</div>