Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Copy
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476883" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Spiders In Bubbles Plumbing The Depths</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spiders in bubbles plumbing the depths <br>of a new medium. Looking up from the bottom<br>the stars aren't stars, they're water-striders.<br>And me? I'm walking on the surface of my mind<br>like a very light-footed telescope. An antelope <br>who's just woken up from a dream<br>of a touring ballet company run by lions. <br>I'm sitting on a skull of rock close to the river <br>like some bare-footed prophecy<br>eating locusts and honey in the wilderness<br>that doesn't know whether to make heads or tails of me. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Anxieties of surviving the way I am mingle <br>with lyrics of longing to change<br>like the metamorphic passage of the river<br>flowing by me like the not so Milky Way <br>of my mindstream trying to clarify itself <br>in the course of its own running. But it's <br>as hard to part the waters with the wind <br>as it is with a sword, and I'm not looking <br>for any anomaly of nature to lead me to the Promised Land. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I've been to PsychoBabylon and back. <br>And I had no eyes, I was blind, and I had to <br>follow my own Orphic skull up out of hell<br>like a song someone was whistling in the dark.<br>You live too long with ghosts, you start <br>asserting your wilfulness for all of them<br>and pretty soon the seance turns into an exorcism. <br>The fire that burned of its own accord, <br>stops crying like a candle and begins scrying <br>which way it's going on any one of these Roads of Smoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm a pilgrimage of one to a shrine I've never heard of <br>who would like to walk part way with you, <br>heart to heart until you couldn't tell <br>the new moon apart from the full<br>and like the snaking of this river <br>around these islands of birch groves<br>falling like pencils the beavers have chewed through<br>down to their stubs, we realize inseparably<br>it was always the right door to enter by, the entrance, <br>not this inseparable exit that keeps <br>stuffing the mouth of the oracle <br>like the three bells and all's well of a seashell <br>with oceanic starmaps as to where <br>we've buried the lost treasures of our hearts and minds<br>that we've been looking for as if they weren't <br>hiding out in the open where they've always been.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hidden harmony of deep love is the dark bond <br>that ensures there can be no discontinuity <br>anywhere in the bubble-blowing multiverse<br>whether there are spiders on the moon in diving bells <br>that look like Schiaparelli's canali on Mars, <br>or the peculiar scars on a third eye with a detached retina, <br>or a neuronic crossroads in the roots of a nervous system<br>waiting for the wind to show up whirling like a Sufi <br>to tell it which way to go to transcend its spiritual vertigo<br>like a computer message from earth to a space rover<br>exploring the possibility of finding love and life <br>like mirages gathered around the house wells of a deserted planet<br>witnessing the return journey of life like a prodigal <br>to the first threshold it ever crossed over with a smile into exile.</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=476883" data-title="Spiders In Bubbles Plumbing The Depths de Patrick White" data-description="Spiders in bubbles plumbing the depths of a new medium. Looking up from the bottom the stars aren't stars, they're water-striders. And me? I'm walking on the surface of my mind like a very light-footed telescope. An antelope who's just woken up ..."></div> </div> </div>
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black