“In our language rhyme is a barrel. A barrel of dynamite. The line is a fuse. The line smoulders to the end and explodes; and the town is blown sky-high in a stanza.” EndsLanguageLinesSkyTownsRhymeBarrelsFuseDynamiteSky High Author:Vladimir Mayakovsky
“They stood brow to brow, brown to white, black to black, he supporting her elbows, she playing her limp light fingers over his collarbone, and how he "ladored,"he said, the dark aroma of her hair blending with crushed lily stalks, Turkish cigarettes and the lassitude that comes from "lass." "No, no, don't," she said, I must wash, quick-quick, Ada must wash; but for yet another immortal moment they stood embraced in the hushed avenue, enjoying as they had never enjoyed before, the "happy-forever" feeling at the end of never-ending fairy tales.” SaidEndsMomentsFeelingsLightEnjoyBlackDarkWhiteForeverHairFingersTalesEnjoyedFairyBrownImmortalFairy TaleCigaretteAvenuesCrushedLiliesBrowsStalkingNever EndingElbowsTurkishAromaAda Author:Vladimir Mayakovsky
“Were I as quiet as thunder, how I'd wail and whine! One groan of mine would start the world's crumbling cloister shivering. And if I'd end up by roaring with all of its power of lungs and more - the comets, distressed, would wring their hands and from the sky's roof leap in a fever.” IfsWorldEndsHandsSkyMinesQuietLeapRoofThunderLungsFeverRoaringCometsCrumbling Book:Селестед Воркс ин Тхрее Волумес: Селестед версе Source: Селестед Воркс ин Тхрее Волумес: Селестед версе
