The lightnings trembled And in thy Silence was his Sentence, And in his Soul a vain repentance, And evil dread so ill dissembled, That in his hand the lightnings trembled. Lord Byron, Prometheus idefiancesilence
barnsoutbuildings A Building by Charles R. Myer & Michael Pollan www.charlesmyer.com Show image 0 Show image 1 Show image 2 A Place of My Own: The Architecture of Daydreams