Project 365 – 16th May 2010

Posted: May 16, 2010 in Project 365
Tags: , , , , ,

Day 105 – Standing Outside The Fire

Still recovering from my cold so I didn’t get many pictures today. Instead I was sat in beside the gas fire (pictured) watching the football and editing photos. My mind always seems clogged up when I don’t get out to run around or see a new environment so I haven’t much interesting ramblings to ramble about today! Instead I’ll put in a few random quotes and words that I’ve heard or seen in passing.

“Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still” – Dorothea Lange

Dorothea Lange (1895-1965) was a unique and talented portrait photographer, documentary photographer and photo journalist who took extensive photos in America during the Great Depression. Her most famous photo was that of the Migrant Mother, a picture that defined the era. I saw this quote of hers the other day and thought it was interesting and deserved to go in the blog whether it fitted into the theme or not!

One – U2

Did I ask too much?
More than a lot.
You gave me nothing,
Now it’s all I got
We’re one
But we’re not the same
Well we
Hurt each other
Then we do it again
You say
Love is a temple
Love a higher law
Love is a temple
Love the higher law
You ask me to enter
But then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on
To what you got
When all you got is hurt

One love
One blood
One life
You got to do what you should
One life
With each other
One life
But we’re not the same
We get to
Carry each other
Carry each other


From the film Caddyshack
Danny Noonan: I haven’t even told my father about the scholarship I didn’t get. I’m gonna end up working in a lumberyard the rest of my life.
Ty Webb: What’s wrong with lumber? I own two lumberyards.
Danny Noonan: I notice you don’t spend too much time there.
Ty Webb: I’m not quite sure where they are.

Alfred Lord Tennyson’s Maud

There has fallen a splendid tear
    From the passion-flower at the gate.
  She is coming, my dove, my dear;
    She is coming, my life, my fate.
  The red rose cries, “She is near, she is near;”
    And the white rose weeps, “She is late;”
  The larkspur listens, “I hear, I hear;”
    And the lily whispers, “I wait


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