legovanan
I just have to post these beautiful segments of literature... I don't know why. Don't think anyone will bother, but I need to get them out of my system.

The song I can sing is but shreds one remembers
Of golden imagines fashioned in sleep
A whispered tale told by withering embers
Of old things far off but few hearts keep.

JRR Tolkien, Book of Lost Tales

Don't stand beside my grave and weep,
For I'm not there, I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond's glint on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circle flight,
I am soft stars that shine at night,
Don't stand beside my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die.
-Melinda Sue Pacho

and to conclude this night, the perfection of steven gerrard:


alright i'll spare you a bit and end with a funny one: