Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich — yes, richer than a king —
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
who’s up thinking about after the threesome they both take you home by sue hyon bae i’m thinking about after the threesome they both take you home by sue hyon bae
“I want to say: I only love you, And I cling to you Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound.”
— Nizar Qabbani, from “I am accused”; Arabian Love Poems (tr. by Bassam Frangieh & Clementina Brown)