Créer mon blog M'identifier

there into the new sea lands of the West

Le 23 mars 2017, 04:54 dans Humeurs 0

But this is not a chronicle of the politics and history of the sea country, but only of one particular merman’s fortunes. Our merman was young and very handsome, and belonged to a very distinguished family in his own state. It was said that they were in some way connected with that royal race to which belonged Gulnare of the Sea—she who married the King of Khorassan. It was whispered that the family were descended from a younger son of this pair, who had married a mer lady, and displeased both her family and his to such an extent by the marriage that they had left the Eastern seas and emigrated to the English waters, and from .

All these things, if they were true, must have happened centuries before my merman was born. The legend was well known, and if it was founded on fact, the family had human blood in their veins and a cross of sea genii, for Gulnare was, as you will remember, not quite a flesh-and-blood woman. However, the humanity in them was at least royal humanity, and the King of Khorassan, as the story goes, was a very fine gentleman.
36

All the people of that country were fair-haired, big-boned people, with blue eyes, but the race I am writing about were black haired and dark eyed, with slender hands. They were rather delicate and slight in their appearance, and they had a peculiarly graceful way of carrying their tails, a manner quite indescribable in its elegance, but a family mark. They were rather more intellectual than their countrymen and were fond of literary pursuits and the study of magic, which in the sea land is considered as a very essential part of a gentleman’s education. It is taught only in the higher schools and colleges.

Our merman’s old grandfather (his father was dead) was Professor of Magic in the State University, and so expert in his own science that he could turn himself into an oyster so perfect that you could not tell him from the genuine article. It was said that once while in that condition he had been nearly swallowed by a member of the Freshman class. For this offence the young merman was called up before the Faculty. He apologized very humbly, and said his only motive had been to see if he couldn’t for once get the professor to agree with him. He professed himself very penitent, and was let off with a reprimand, but he said afterward that his great mistake had been in waiting for the pepper and vinegar. After this accident the professor could never be induced to repeat the performance except in a small circle of his intimate friends.
37

Now, there was one curious thing about this family, and one which makes me think there was some truth in the legend of their descent from Gulnare and the King of Khorassan.

Time on the buildings

Le 20 juillet 2015, 09:02 dans Humeurs 0


To and fro the flow of people, a turn on the shoulder. Since then, we have become the story of the people business registration in hk, in spite of all grief at separation and joy in union.

If there is an afterlife do a look at the story of people, look at their own grief at separation and joy in Union, keep out of the affair. Will be a cup of tea to the odorless, a life light written in the landscape of the fleeting time, even if the world has hundred flatters Benny, bitter, hot, sweet and sour, can still you. Indifferent to life and death, be seen as ephemeral downtown, find a tranquil alley, the only support a small umbrella, light to see flowers bloom, Yunjuanyunshu and then disappeared in the camwood Xianchen, like a leaf, destined to must be attributed to the earth's arms.

The world of mortals dream hard to wake up, wake up flowers to drop, all the original predict, the outcome of all the dust has settled, the fate of the game to win is not important, the last piece, where, with life than, so insignificant, billowing Yellow River runs to reenex facial, langtaosha, leaving only a legend, have been very far away, far away...

Walking in the mortal world, thoughts winding past, put pen to paper uttering the sorrow, looking out the window, flashing neon lights, bid farewell to in yesterday's rain, life shortly, moon night, tears wet heart desolate is hate is sorrow, ash of the heart, the wind blowing short lapel, melancholy in the world will cease.

Accustomed to the dark corner, is I am too pessimistic? The vast world, have put many wanbuhui, as time flies, at the hands of cool tea. Push cup change between small cup, the earth is another appearance, stubborn man is not always willing to get close to beg for a result, watching everything burn into ashes.

May soon after, the name in the life will not be remembered, white hands of stationery have been stained with ink, wind is the sediment of a past thoughts, in each wind day will think of him? Like a never withering flower, with the days of aloes, blooms in the fleeting light reenex cps.

The epitome of our growth

Le 14 juillet 2015, 06:54 dans Humeurs 0

The first love is like a flame, and the last will be the wind. Young love, live in pleasant, pure and fragile, believe love is love. At the time of love, although some blind, but love is from the bottom of the sincerity of the depths of the soul; so, love to the depths of insanity, Chi Chi, love, Chi Chi, and so,  crazy to don't know how to cherish. Now understand, love is a flower in the dream of the high blood pressureflower, the flower is half, the dream woke up, the flower will wither.

I do not know by instinct, or the day after tomorrow acquired, has been very like the old, old letters, outdated building, old traditional and conventional love. I like the old, also said that it is reenex not clear what the reason, perhaps with love, love is the reason is no reason. Nostalgia for the people are, and not to miss, sentimental, and live in the past, but to find the once happy appearance in the passing of time.

Like sitting in a black and white cross time, plain water, leisurely miss, how to let you meet me, at my most beautiful moment and accompany you Enterprise Cloud Email slowly old.

Don't remember from what time, Xi Murong love poems, love is a flowering tree. When you walk from my side, I do not know whether you pay attention to, falling behind the, is not the fallen petals, but my withered heart. A love can withstand, how much to pay, had human love abandoned the family, as a betrayal of the friendship, but love is not the life of all, once vowed to love to become in the life the most important thing, when I'm scarred after, only to find family is indispensable in the life of love.

Time is difficult to turn the clock back, a person who wants to make their lives to live a valuable, need love, must not be all the hope that love. The true meaning of love, not lost, it is not owned, but can keep the light. Maybe life is only after toss toss is not complete, love without remorse and regret, frivolous and depression years, experiencing the pain of torture is true love.

Hanlaishuwang, life kept tossing and turning, we missed, maybe leave is the true meaning of travel, some things haven't had been drifting further and further away, until barren. Even if it is still the old to know, also don't want to let go of the time. Go forward, let the past, let go away, regardless of the future of the road there is no one cares who I am, no matter whether the landscape is still picturesque landscape.

Voir la suite ≫