The Tyger A Poem by William Blake www.poetryfoundation.org Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? It's a Magical World
The complexity and the gray One thing I assume of age is weariness. Damned if I don’t get more tired every day. Tired of what I do, following arcs like lobbed rocks — the inevitability of truth. But the complexity and the gray lie not in the truth, but in what you do with the truth once you have it. truthlifeagedecisions