A Quote by Anna Akhmatova

I have long had this premonition of a bright day and a deserted house — © Anna Akhmatova
I have long had this premonition of a bright day and a deserted house
The word landed with a stony thud Onto my still-beating breast. Nevermind, I was prepared, I will manage with the rest. I have a lot of work to do today; I need to slaughter memory, Turn my living soul to stone Then teach myself to live again. . . But how. The hot summer rustles Like a carnival outside my window; I have long had this premonition Of a bright day and a deserted house.
I will never forget the bright September day, standing at my desk in the White House, when my young assistant said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center - and then a second one - and a third, the Pentagon.
He might be tall enough to see into tomorrow, but he hadn’t looked there in a long, long time. He’d forgotten how bright it was. So bright he could hardly stand it.
The woods were deserted that day. The stones stood still and silent, as though they were waiting for something. At the center of them all, a jagged piece of amber glowed in the growing darkness. Lights fizzed softly around it, turning pink, orange, purple, blue. No one saw it. No one ever did. Why would they? No one knoew about its magic, not anymore. They had forgotten all about such magic a long, long time ago. About the same time they stopped believing in faries. How foolish.
I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next day had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.
It would be very unjust to say that you deserted me, but that I was deserted, and sometimes terribly so, is true.
I can see clearly now that the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind, it's gonna be a bright, bright sun shining day.
I had a premonition when I was nine that I'd marry Leonardo DiCaprio.
President Obama spent Election Day away from any press coverage, attending closed-door meetings inside the White House. But on the bright side, it is nice to see some doors actually closed at the White House. It's a whole new Secret Service security thing.
There have been ups and downs obviously. But my bright spots have been bright enough for me to believe that I belong. And what I do day to day in practice, I have confidence from that work ethic.
It was so quiet that morning in Paris that the heels of my two companions and myself were loud on the deserted pavements. It was a city of shuttered shops, and barred windows, and deserted avenues.
For a long time now my heart has had its shutters closed, its steps deserted, formerly a tumultuous hotel, but now empty and echoing like a great empty tomb.
I resolved that, like the sun, as long as my day lasted, I would look on the bright side of everything.
It is not in the bright, happy day, but only in the solemn night, that other worlds are to be seen shining in their long, long distances. And it is in sorrow - the night of the soul - that we see farthest, and know ourselves natives of infinity, and sons and daughters of the Most High.
It is not like a premonition of death. It is as if she died a long time ago, and she just now remembered it.
You can't blame anyone else... You have to make your own choices and live every agonizing day with the consequences of those choices. He knew this. That's why he deserted us like we deserted those civilians. He saw the road ahead, a steep, treacherous mountain road. We'd all have to hike that road, each of us dragging the boulder of what we'd done behind us. He couldn't do it. He couldn't shoulder the weight." - Philip Adler
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