Ingen sommar utan myggbett
(mina kom i natt)
Kategori: Words
Lunch with a glass of Rosé, anyone?
Do not let Sunday be taken from you.
Albert Schweitzer
If your soul has no Sunday, it becomes an orphan
You’re not stuck.
You’re just marinating
in potential
An apple a day keeps the doctor away
A crayfish feast is not a meal,
it’s a midnight choir of laughter,
claws, and song
September:
It is the doorway month.
One foot in summer’s memory,
one in autumn’s promise
Coffee is the poetry of mornings —
dark, a little bitter, but full of promise
Looks like we made it
barry manilow
The best journey takes you home