I like to think Amanda Bynes and Azealia Banks have been collaborating on a performance art piece together.
When I hear anyone say he does not fear lightning, I still remark inwardly: he has never ridden the mountain in May.
The explosions are fearsome enough, but more so are the smoking slivers of stone that sing past your ear when the bolt crashes into a rimrock. Still more so are the splinters that fly wen the bolt crashes into a pine. I remember one gleaming white one, 15 feet long, that stabbed into the earth at my feet and stood there humming like a tuning fork.
It must be poor life that achieves freedom from fear.
why am i on tumblr i have so much to do