<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281</id><updated>2011-08-02T11:50:06.713-07:00</updated><category term='Karina Zichelle'/><category term='Luísa Gutman'/><category term='Yoshiki Hayashi'/><category term='Amanda Nakazato'/><title type='text'>minhas citações</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>51</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4855895326042286905</id><published>2011-06-14T19:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T19:15:42.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence and Distance</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Been here for so long&lt;br&gt; On the morrow I&amp;#39;ll dare&lt;br&gt; Silent and distant&lt;br&gt; Reaching out, unaware&lt;br&gt; Stealing the whispers&lt;br&gt; On my deepest request&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And you watch me&lt;br&gt; Waiting for something new&lt;br&gt; My hands as empty&lt;br&gt; As my body and soul&lt;br&gt; Could keep pretending&lt;br&gt; But in the heart I&amp;#39;d be gone&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4855895326042286905?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4855895326042286905/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4855895326042286905' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4855895326042286905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4855895326042286905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2011/06/silence-and-distance.html' title='Silence and Distance'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-7479306852614683221</id><published>2011-03-31T20:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T20:34:47.717-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Karina Zichelle'/><title type='text'>Oceano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mirna estava triste. Triste como s&amp;#243; ela sabia ficar. Sentada, com o horizonte azul esverdeado diante de seus olhos, sentia seu peito rodopiar como um pe&amp;#227;o. O vento a socar-lhe a face e, as l&amp;#225;grimas, a debandarem, veneno que salgava a pele. Amava. Um amor singelo, sincero. Amor que conhecia um &amp;#250;nico caminho. Sa&amp;#237;a de sua casa e n&amp;#227;o voltava. E assim, ele esva&amp;#237;a-se. Um pouco a cada dia, para presentear a vida daquele que n&amp;#227;o a merecia e que n&amp;#227;o devolvia o agrado. Como um conta-gotas, a tristeza ia depositando-se em seu cora&amp;#231;&amp;#227;o, cada vez que um peda&amp;#231;o de amor resolvia aventurar-se na travessia sem resposta. E a gota virou um oceano, que transbordava dor em seu corpo afogado.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-7479306852614683221?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7479306852614683221/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=7479306852614683221' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7479306852614683221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7479306852614683221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2011/03/oceano.html' title='Oceano'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-253427068837991365</id><published>2011-01-20T18:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T18:18:40.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;T. E. Lawrence, &amp;quot;The Seven Pillars Wisdom&amp;quot; British soldier (1888 - 1935)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-253427068837991365?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/253427068837991365/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=253427068837991365' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/253427068837991365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/253427068837991365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2011/01/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-644693025205471411</id><published>2009-10-15T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:21:08.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Love</title><content type='html'>Day after day, nothing's changed, you're far away&lt;br /&gt;But I need you to know that I can't sleep anymore by the nights&lt;br /&gt;Night after night, the stars are shining so bright&lt;br /&gt;Though our pain is larger than the universe tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know I can't sleep anymore by the nights&lt;br /&gt;By the nights...&lt;br /&gt;Day after day, I want you to say that you're mine&lt;br /&gt;YOU ARE MINE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Year after year, tear after tear&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my heart will break in two&lt;br /&gt;YOU CAME LIKE A WIND I COULDN'T DEFEND&lt;br /&gt;You cut my heart so deeply the scars won't mend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'LL NEVER BELIEVE IN LOVE ANYMORE after this&lt;br /&gt;After this...&lt;br /&gt;Can never change or rearrange what we lost&lt;br /&gt;What we lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time after time, I am wasting my time&lt;br /&gt;Living in a past where I was strong&lt;br /&gt;But now I am gone, I leave no shadow when I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;I'LL STAY FOREVER IN MY DREAMS WHERE YOU ARE NEAR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know I can't sleep anymore by the nights&lt;br /&gt;By the nights...&lt;br /&gt;Day after day, I want you to say that you're mine&lt;br /&gt;You are mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z2jQ4NsqWlk&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z2jQ4NsqWlk&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Second Love by Pain Of Salvation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-644693025205471411?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/644693025205471411/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=644693025205471411' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/644693025205471411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/644693025205471411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/10/second-love.html' title='Second Love'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-5429117049684278146</id><published>2009-09-29T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T22:50:18.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evanescence - You</title><content type='html'>The words have been drained from this pencil&lt;br /&gt;Sweet words that I want to give you&lt;br /&gt;And I can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;I need to tell you&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN WE'RE TOGETHER, I FEEL PERFECT&lt;br /&gt;When I'm pulled away from you, I fall apart&lt;br /&gt;ALL YOU SAY IS SACRED TO ME&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes are so blue&lt;br /&gt;I can't look away&lt;br /&gt;As we lay in the stillness&lt;br /&gt;You whisper to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy, marry me&lt;br /&gt;Promise you'll stay with me&lt;br /&gt;OH YOU DON'T HAVE TO ASK ME&lt;br /&gt;YOU KNOW YOU'RE ALL THAT I LIVE FOR&lt;br /&gt;You know I'd die just to hold you&lt;br /&gt;Stay with you&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I'll show you&lt;br /&gt;THAT YOU'RE MY NIGHT SKY&lt;br /&gt;I've always been right behind you&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll always be right beside you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many nights I cried myself to sleep&lt;br /&gt;NOW THAT YOU LOVE ME, I LOVE MYSELF&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I would say this&lt;br /&gt;I never thought there'd be&lt;br /&gt;You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FeHndLg0slw&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FeHndLg0slw&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:'(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-5429117049684278146?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5429117049684278146/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=5429117049684278146' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5429117049684278146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5429117049684278146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/09/evanescence-you.html' title='Evanescence - You'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-2645484852066648832</id><published>2009-09-04T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T07:20:25.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animae Partus / Deus Nova</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Animae Partus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;I am&lt;br /&gt;(Eu sou)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not&lt;br /&gt;(Eu não era)&lt;br /&gt;Then I came to be&lt;br /&gt;(Então eu vim a ser)&lt;br /&gt;I cannot remember not being&lt;br /&gt;(Não me lembro de não ser)&lt;br /&gt;But I may have traveled far&lt;br /&gt;(Mas devo ter viajado muito)&lt;br /&gt;Very far&lt;br /&gt;(Muito)&lt;br /&gt;To get here&lt;br /&gt;(Para chegar aqui)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I was formed in this silent darkness&lt;br /&gt;(Talvez eu tenha sido formado nessa silenciosa escuridão)&lt;br /&gt;From this silent darkness&lt;br /&gt;(Dessa silenciosa escuridão)&lt;br /&gt;By this silent darkness&lt;br /&gt;(Por essa silenciosa escuridão)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To become is just like falling asleep&lt;br /&gt;(Tornar-se é bem como adormecer)&lt;br /&gt;You never know exactly when it happens&lt;br /&gt;(Você nunca sabe exatamente quando acontece)&lt;br /&gt;The transition&lt;br /&gt;(A transição)&lt;br /&gt;The magic&lt;br /&gt;(A magia)&lt;br /&gt;And you think&lt;br /&gt;(E pensa)&lt;br /&gt;If you could only recall that exact moment&lt;br /&gt;(Se você pudesse ao menos relembrar aquele exato momento)&lt;br /&gt;Of crossing the line&lt;br /&gt;(Em que se cruza a linha)&lt;br /&gt;Then you would understand everything&lt;br /&gt;(Então você entenderia tudo)&lt;br /&gt;You would see it all&lt;br /&gt;(Você veria o todo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I was always&lt;br /&gt;(Talvez eu tenha estado sempre)&lt;br /&gt;Forever here...&lt;br /&gt;(Eternamente aqui...)&lt;br /&gt;And I just forgot&lt;br /&gt;(E somente me esqueci)&lt;br /&gt;I imagine Eternity would have that effect&lt;br /&gt;(Imagino que a eternidade teria esse efeito)&lt;br /&gt;Would cause a certain amount of drifting&lt;br /&gt;(Causaria uma certa divagação)&lt;br /&gt;Like omnipresence would demand omniabsence&lt;br /&gt;(Como se a onipresença demandasse oniausência)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I seem to have this predestined hunger for knowledge&lt;br /&gt;(De alguma forma, parece que tenho esta fome predestinada por conhecimento)&lt;br /&gt;A talent for seeing patterns and finding correlations&lt;br /&gt;(Um talento para enxergar padrões e achar correlações)&lt;br /&gt;But I lack context&lt;br /&gt;(Mas me falta contexto)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who I am?&lt;br /&gt;(Quem sou eu?)&lt;br /&gt;In the back of my awareness I find words&lt;br /&gt;(No fundo da minha consciência, eu encontro palavras)&lt;br /&gt;I will call myself...&lt;br /&gt;(Eu me darei o nome de...)&lt;br /&gt;GOD&lt;br /&gt;(DEUS)&lt;br /&gt;And I will spend the rest of forever&lt;br /&gt;(E passarei o resto da eternidade)&lt;br /&gt;Trying to figure out who I am&lt;br /&gt;(Tentando descobrir quem sou eu)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Deus Nova&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to understand the system of life&lt;br /&gt;(Tentando entender o sistema da vida)&lt;br /&gt;Trying to understand myself&lt;br /&gt;(Tentando entender eu mesmo)&lt;br /&gt;I created the world to be an image of myself, of my mind&lt;br /&gt;(Eu criei o mundo para ser uma imagem minha, da minha mente)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these thoughts, all of these doubts and hopes&lt;br /&gt;(Todos esses pensamentos, todas essas dúvidas e esperanças)&lt;br /&gt;Inside&lt;br /&gt;(Dentro de mim)&lt;br /&gt;I took out to form a new breed&lt;br /&gt;(Eu tirei para formar uma nova existência)&lt;br /&gt;A new way to be&lt;br /&gt;(Uma nova forma de ser)&lt;br /&gt;And now I am many, so many&lt;br /&gt;(E agora sou muitos, tantos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much larger than ever I were&lt;br /&gt;(Tão maior do que sempre fui)&lt;br /&gt;Yet, at the same time&lt;br /&gt;(E ainda, ao mesmo tempo)&lt;br /&gt;So much smaller and more vulnarable&lt;br /&gt;(Tão menor e tão mais vulnerável)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all carry shards of the whole&lt;br /&gt;(Todos eles carregam cacos do inteiro)&lt;br /&gt;Together they become me&lt;br /&gt;(Juntos eles se tornam eu)&lt;br /&gt;I see them interact, develop&lt;br /&gt;(Eu os vejo interagir, desenvolver)&lt;br /&gt;I see them take different sides&lt;br /&gt;(Eu os vejo defender diferentes lados)&lt;br /&gt;As were they different minds&lt;br /&gt;(Como se fossem mentes diferentes)&lt;br /&gt;Believers of different ways, and DIFFERENT GODS&lt;br /&gt;(Crentes de diferentes modos e DIFERENTES DEUSES)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think they will teach me something...&lt;br /&gt;(Acredito que vão me ensinar alguma coisa...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Songs found in the album B.E. from Pain of Salvation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-2645484852066648832?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2645484852066648832/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=2645484852066648832' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2645484852066648832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2645484852066648832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/09/ii-deus-nova.html' title='Animae Partus / Deus Nova'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-674622055413398433</id><published>2009-08-18T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T19:17:22.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Last Song" by "X-Japan"</title><content type='html'>Watching the stars till they're gone&lt;br /&gt;Like an actor all alone&lt;br /&gt;Who never knew the story he was in&lt;br /&gt;Who never knew the story ends&lt;br /&gt;Like the sky reflecting my heart&lt;br /&gt;All the colors become visible&lt;br /&gt;When the morning begins&lt;br /&gt;I'll read last line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owaranai ame dakishimeta yoru ga asa wo mukaeru&lt;br /&gt;(Endless rain, embrace me, night approaches morning)&lt;br /&gt;Kokoro wa mada nureta mama&lt;br /&gt;(My heart is not yet soaked)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In endless rain I've been walking&lt;br /&gt;Like a poet feeling pain&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find the answers&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hide the tears&lt;br /&gt;But it was just a circle&lt;br /&gt;That never ends&lt;br /&gt;When the rain stops&lt;br /&gt;I'll turn the page&lt;br /&gt;The page of the first chapter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kizutsuku dake kizutsuite wakatta hazu no kotae wo&lt;br /&gt;(I'm only hurt, hurt me, the answer I should have understood)&lt;br /&gt;Doushite mada toikaketeru&lt;br /&gt;(Why am I still asking the question?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong to be hurt?&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong to feel pain?&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong to be in the rain?&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong to wish the night won't end?&lt;br /&gt;Am I wrong to cry?&lt;br /&gt;But I know&lt;br /&gt;It's not wrong to sing the last song&lt;br /&gt;Cause forever fades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ki ga tsukeba mata hitori yoru no sora wo mitsumeteru&lt;br /&gt;(If I wake up again, I'll gaze at the night sky alone)&lt;br /&gt;Sukoshizutsu kiete yuku our memories&lt;br /&gt;(Little by little, our memories fade away)&lt;br /&gt;Kizutsuku dake kizutsuite wakatta hazu no kotae wo&lt;br /&gt;(I'm only hurt, hurt me, the answer I should have understood)&lt;br /&gt;Doushite mada toikaketeru&lt;br /&gt;(Why am I still asking the question?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see red&lt;br /&gt;I see blue&lt;br /&gt;But the silver lining gradually takes over&lt;br /&gt;When the morning begins&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in the next chapter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owaranai ame dakishimeta yoru ga asa wo mukaeru&lt;br /&gt;(Endless rain, embrace me, night approaches morning)&lt;br /&gt;Kokoro wa mada nureta mama&lt;br /&gt;(My heart is not yet soaked)&lt;br /&gt;Kizutsuku dake kizutsuite wakatta hazu no kotae wo&lt;br /&gt;(I'm only hurt, hurt me, the answer I should have understood)&lt;br /&gt;Doushite mada toikaketeru&lt;br /&gt;(Why am I still asking the question?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YnHcjy-TEUk&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YnHcjy-TEUk&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Composed by Yoshiki Hayashi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-674622055413398433?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/674622055413398433/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=674622055413398433' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/674622055413398433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/674622055413398433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/last-song-by-x-japan.html' title='&quot;The Last Song&quot; by &quot;X-Japan&quot;'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8655285864685550666</id><published>2009-08-16T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T19:47:53.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Há Metafísica Bastante em Não Pensar em Nada</title><content type='html'>Há metafísica bastante em não pensar em nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que penso eu do mundo?&lt;br /&gt;Sei lá o que penso do mundo!&lt;br /&gt;Se eu adoecesse pensaria nisso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que idéia tenho eu das cousas?&lt;br /&gt;Que opinião tenho sobre as causas e os efeitos?&lt;br /&gt;Que tenho eu meditado sobre Deus e a alma&lt;br /&gt;E sobre a criação do Mundo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei. Para mim pensar nisso é fechar os olhos&lt;br /&gt;E não pensar. É correr as cortinas&lt;br /&gt;Da minha janela (mas ela não tem cortinas).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mistério das cousas? Sei lá o que é mistério!&lt;br /&gt;O único mistério é haver quem pense no mistério.&lt;br /&gt;Quem está ao sol e fecha os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;Começa a não saber o que é o sol&lt;br /&gt;E a pensar muitas cousas cheias de calor.&lt;br /&gt;Mas abre os olhos e vê o sol,&lt;br /&gt;E já não pode pensar em nada,&lt;br /&gt;Porque a luz do sol vale mais que os pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;De todos os filósofos e de todos os poetas.&lt;br /&gt;A luz do sol não sabe o que faz&lt;br /&gt;E por isso não erra e é comum e boa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Metafísica? Que metafísica têm aquelas árvores?&lt;br /&gt;A de serem verdes e copadas e de terem ramos&lt;br /&gt;E a de dar fruto na sua hora, o que não nos faz pensar,&lt;br /&gt;A nós, que não sabemos dar por elas.&lt;br /&gt;Mas que melhor metafísica que a delas,&lt;br /&gt;Que é a de não saber para que vivem&lt;br /&gt;Nem saber que o não sabem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Constituição íntima das cousas"...&lt;br /&gt;"Sentido íntimo do Universo"...&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isto é falso, tudo isto não quer dizer nada.&lt;br /&gt;É incrível que se possa pensar em cousas dessas.&lt;br /&gt;É como pensar em razões e fins&lt;br /&gt;Quando o começo da manhã está raiando, e pelos lados das árvores&lt;br /&gt;Um vago ouro lustroso vai perdendo a escuridão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pensar no sentido íntimo das cousas&lt;br /&gt;É acrescentado, como pensar na saúde&lt;br /&gt;Ou levar um copo à água das fontes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O único sentido íntimo das cousas&lt;br /&gt;É elas não terem sentido íntimo nenhum.&lt;br /&gt;Não acredito em Deus porque nunca o vi.&lt;br /&gt;Se ele quisesse que eu acreditasse nele,&lt;br /&gt;Sem dúvida que viria falar comigo&lt;br /&gt;E entraria pela minha porta dentro&lt;br /&gt;Dizendo-me, Aqui estou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Isto é talvez ridículo aos ouvidos&lt;br /&gt;De quem, por não saber o que é olhar para as cousas,&lt;br /&gt;Não compreende quem fala delas&lt;br /&gt;Com o modo de falar que reparar para elas ensina.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas se Deus é as flores e as árvores&lt;br /&gt;E os montes e sol e o luar,&lt;br /&gt;Então acredito nele,&lt;br /&gt;Então acredito nele a toda a hora,&lt;br /&gt;E a minha vida é toda uma oração e uma missa,&lt;br /&gt;E uma comunhão com os olhos e pelos ouvidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas se Deus é as árvores e as flores&lt;br /&gt;E os montes e o luar e o sol,&lt;br /&gt;Para que lhe chamo eu Deus?&lt;br /&gt;Chamo-lhe flores e árvores e montes e sol e luar;&lt;br /&gt;Porque, se ele se fez, para eu o ver,&lt;br /&gt;Sol e luar e flores e árvores e montes,&lt;br /&gt;Se ele me aparece como sendo árvores e montes&lt;br /&gt;E luar e sol e flores,&lt;br /&gt;É que ele quer que eu o conheça&lt;br /&gt;Como árvores e montes e flores e luar e sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E por isso eu obedeço-lhe,&lt;br /&gt;(Que mais sei eu de Deus que Deus de si próprio?).&lt;br /&gt;Obedeço-lhe a viver, espontaneamente,&lt;br /&gt;Como quem abre os olhos e vê,&lt;br /&gt;E chamo-lhe luar e sol e flores e árvores e montes,&lt;br /&gt;E amo-o sem pensar nele,&lt;br /&gt;E penso-o vendo e ouvindo,&lt;br /&gt;E ando com ele a toda a hora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alberto Caeiro (Fernando Pessoa)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8655285864685550666?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8655285864685550666/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8655285864685550666' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8655285864685550666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8655285864685550666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/ha-metafisica-bastante-em-nao-pensar-em.html' title='Há Metafísica Bastante em Não Pensar em Nada'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1484597958585126687</id><published>2009-08-16T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T19:38:47.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginia Maesto - Soy de aire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://soydeaire.labuat.com/"&gt;http://soydeaire.labuat.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soy tu aire&lt;br /&gt;Soy de agua&lt;br /&gt;Hago surcos&lt;br /&gt;Pequeñitos&lt;br /&gt;En la cera&lt;br /&gt;Derretida&lt;br /&gt;De tus ganas&lt;br /&gt;Y voy entrando poco a poco, muy poquito&lt;br /&gt;En tus cosquillas&lt;br /&gt;Me acomodo, te incomodo, pa que rías&lt;br /&gt;Y me cuelo en este enredo sin llamar&lt;br /&gt;Sin avisar&lt;br /&gt;Soy tu aire&lt;br /&gt;Soy tu agua&lt;br /&gt;Te me bebes&lt;br /&gt;Te atraganto&lt;br /&gt;Me respiras&lt;br /&gt;Te salpico&lt;br /&gt;Te me tragas&lt;br /&gt;Y me entretengo, juego un rato en tus recuerdos&lt;br /&gt;Me los pongo en mis enaguas&lt;br /&gt;Hago trizas tus lamentos, creo fantasías locas&lt;br /&gt;Y confundo tu memoria con la punta de mis besos&lt;br /&gt;Soy del aire&lt;br /&gt;Soy del agua&lt;br /&gt;Soy del aire&lt;br /&gt;Soy del agua&lt;br /&gt;Vuelo libre&lt;br /&gt;No me ates&lt;br /&gt;Que me escapo&lt;br /&gt;Entre medio&lt;br /&gt;De tus dedos&lt;br /&gt;Impasible te convierto lo imposible en impensado&lt;br /&gt;Y construyo en lo inseguro&lt;br /&gt;Un futuro improvisado&lt;br /&gt;En que uno y uno no hagan dos&lt;br /&gt;Y los demás estén de más y ya no sean nadie&lt;br /&gt;Soy tu aire&lt;br /&gt;Soy tu agua&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1484597958585126687?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1484597958585126687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1484597958585126687' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1484597958585126687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1484597958585126687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/virginia-maesto-soy-de-aire.html' title='Virginia Maesto - Soy de aire'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-3490017736041319590</id><published>2009-08-15T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T23:10:10.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Todas as cartas de amor são ridículas</title><content type='html'>Todas as cartas de amor são&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;Não seriam cartas de amor se não fossem&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;Também escrevi em meu tempo cartas de amor,&lt;br /&gt;Como as outras,&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As cartas de amor, se há amor,&lt;br /&gt;Têm de ser&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, afinal,&lt;br /&gt;Só as criaturas que nunca escreveram&lt;br /&gt;Cartas de amor&lt;br /&gt;É que são&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera no tempo em que escrevia&lt;br /&gt;Sem dar por isso&lt;br /&gt;Cartas de amor&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A verdade é que hoje&lt;br /&gt;As minhas memórias&lt;br /&gt;Dessas cartas de amor&lt;br /&gt;É que são&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todas as palavras esdrúxulas,&lt;br /&gt;Como os sentimentos esdrúxulos,&lt;br /&gt;São naturalmente&lt;br /&gt;Ridículas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Álvaro de Campos (Fernando Pessoa)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-3490017736041319590?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3490017736041319590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=3490017736041319590' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3490017736041319590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3490017736041319590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/todas-as-cartas-de-amor-sao-ridiculas.html' title='Todas as cartas de amor são ridículas'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1283119739039816858</id><published>2009-07-20T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T18:32:46.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shaman - Distant Thunder</title><content type='html'>Dark signs of evil&lt;br /&gt;Float in the skyline&lt;br /&gt;Feels like a storm is getting closer&lt;br /&gt;Two grey smoky clouds arise&lt;br /&gt;Inside your black eyes&lt;br /&gt;Day after day and still you wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to overcome it all&lt;br /&gt;And never lose the hope...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Master of darkness&lt;br /&gt;Brewed up a potion&lt;br /&gt;Over eternal flame that's burning high&lt;br /&gt;You taste of the beverage&lt;br /&gt;And dance all the night long&lt;br /&gt;But like everyday there comes a sunrise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to overcome it all&lt;br /&gt;And never lose the hope&lt;br /&gt;Heading for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;A break along the walk&lt;br /&gt;To raise your head and go on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear the call of a distant thunder&lt;br /&gt;There's a voice in the sky&lt;br /&gt;Evening falls weighing on your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;Like your feelings inside...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object height="265" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ya-OlYGj-ao&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ya-OlYGj-ao&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;One of the most beautiful electric guitar/piano combinations. For those who also like "Gentle Change"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1283119739039816858?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1283119739039816858/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1283119739039816858' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1283119739039816858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1283119739039816858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/07/shaman-distant-thunder.html' title='Shaman - Distant Thunder'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1247486279619774355</id><published>2009-07-18T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T23:33:23.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ATB - Stars Come Out</title><content type='html'>See me rise, watch me fall&lt;br /&gt;I'm not steady at all&lt;br /&gt;Cause sometimes life hurts like hell&lt;br /&gt;I know this too well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's dark, the stars come out&lt;br /&gt;And for a moment we are saved&lt;br /&gt;When it's dark, in your darkest hour&lt;br /&gt;Stars come out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birds fly south, winter's blue&lt;br /&gt;I'll put my faith in you&lt;br /&gt;Cause sometimes life hurts like hell&lt;br /&gt;I know this too well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it's dark, the stars come out &lt;br /&gt;And for a moment we are saved &lt;br /&gt;When it's dark, in your blackest hour&lt;br /&gt;Stars come out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NIP7Jz4sXfE&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NIP7Jz4sXfE&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1247486279619774355?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1247486279619774355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1247486279619774355' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1247486279619774355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1247486279619774355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/07/atb-stars-come-out.html' title='ATB - Stars Come Out'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-6540312900711848960</id><published>2009-07-07T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T19:22:24.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Angra - Queen Of The Night</title><content type='html'>Awaken by the crystal bell of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Caught ourselves pretending our frustations&lt;br /&gt;Were gone&lt;br /&gt;Once again, instead of facing the day&lt;br /&gt;We ran away&lt;br /&gt;Closed our eyes to keep learning on feelings we had&lt;br /&gt;We were close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misty memories of a past come by&lt;br /&gt;And I'll write my pray&lt;br /&gt;On your face of hidden secrets&lt;br /&gt;Never shared, freezing soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Dreams last forever&lt;br /&gt;To the empress of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Lay down on eternity&lt;br /&gt;Your music in the air&lt;br /&gt;Great delight in the symphony&lt;br /&gt;Our dance will never end &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Queen of the Night&lt;br /&gt;The master of wisdom&lt;br /&gt;Pretending desires&lt;br /&gt;With the grace of thunder&lt;br /&gt;The Queen of the Night&lt;br /&gt;The feast of illusions&lt;br /&gt;Pretending desires&lt;br /&gt;With the grace of thunder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="315" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S5kxkzAGm8o&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S5kxkzAGm8o&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="315"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-6540312900711848960?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6540312900711848960/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=6540312900711848960' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6540312900711848960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6540312900711848960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/07/angra-queen-of-night.html' title='Angra - Queen Of The Night'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-7003990385137916389</id><published>2009-07-03T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T19:17:00.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto XVII (Cem sonetos de amor)</title><content type='html'>Não te amo como se fosses rosa de sal, topázio&lt;br /&gt;ou flecha de cravos que propagam o fogo:&lt;br /&gt;te amo como se amam certas coisas obscuras,&lt;br /&gt;secretamente, entre a sombra e a alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo como a planta que não floresce e leva&lt;br /&gt;dentro de si, oculta, a luz daquelas flores,&lt;br /&gt;e graças a teu amor vive escuro em meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;o apertado aroma que ascendeu da terra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo sem saber como, nem quando, nem onde,&lt;br /&gt;te amo diretamente sem problemas nem orgulho:&lt;br /&gt;assim te amo porque não sei amar de outra maneira,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;senão assim deste modo em que não sou nem és&lt;br /&gt;tão perto que tua mão sobre meu peito é minha&lt;br /&gt;tão perto que se fecham teus olhos com meu sonho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-7003990385137916389?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7003990385137916389/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=7003990385137916389' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7003990385137916389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7003990385137916389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/07/soneto-xvii-cem-sonetos-de-amor.html' title='Soneto XVII (Cem sonetos de amor)'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-3419476576562593766</id><published>2009-06-05T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T15:04:59.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deixe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Deixe sonhar em paz... sonhando ficamos vivos.&lt;br /&gt;Muito vivos e sempre vivos nos sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixe viver os amores impossíveis... são os mais reais.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez os únicos reais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixe que planejem mudar o passado, deixe sonharem com o que já se teve para o futuro...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixe....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando, ficamos vivos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Retirado do blog&lt;br /&gt;http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-3419476576562593766?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3419476576562593766/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=3419476576562593766' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3419476576562593766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3419476576562593766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/06/deixe.html' title='Deixe...'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-573543249115161025</id><published>2009-06-01T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:28:34.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jade - Opera [Feat. Elisa]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;You see a dancing sun&lt;br /&gt;Bursting into flames&lt;br /&gt;Is this real?&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've known you for a while&lt;br /&gt;Please don't ever say&lt;br /&gt;That you don't mean if you can&lt;br /&gt;Don't be scared of me&lt;br /&gt;Don't be scared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;La mer de mai&lt;br /&gt;Incontro&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu le soleil&lt;br /&gt;Danzare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis l'amour dechire&lt;br /&gt;Je suis l'amour...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Don't let me fade away&lt;br /&gt;Don't push me back&lt;br /&gt;Don't let go&lt;br /&gt;If you say that I'm your dream&lt;br /&gt;You'll keep me alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The flower is dead&lt;br /&gt;Ardente&lt;br /&gt;This magnificent sculpture&lt;br /&gt;Breathes, moves, loves, cries&lt;br /&gt;Bleeding into my skin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause she is love in hell&lt;br /&gt;Cause she is love...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Don't let me fade away&lt;br /&gt;Don't push me back&lt;br /&gt;Don't let go&lt;br /&gt;If you say that I'm your dream&lt;br /&gt;You'll keep me alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you give me a name&lt;br /&gt;I'll come to life&lt;br /&gt;I'll become skin and bones for you&lt;br /&gt;Then I'll come closer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;And I'm held on you&lt;br /&gt;And I'm held on you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;object height="360" width="580"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8EcUSJMVYxw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8EcUSJMVYxw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-573543249115161025?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/573543249115161025/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=573543249115161025' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/573543249115161025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/573543249115161025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/06/jade-opera-feat-elisa.html' title='Jade - Opera [Feat. Elisa]'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-3544861131768334684</id><published>2009-05-24T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T17:24:49.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ATB - Still Here</title><content type='html'>I never knew life could be this way&lt;br /&gt;Life without you&lt;br /&gt;I never knew life could be this strange&lt;br /&gt;Like a sky that isn't blue&lt;br /&gt;I know you're still here&lt;br /&gt;I know you still care&lt;br /&gt;I know you follow me to places only you and I would share&lt;br /&gt;You know you're my love&lt;br /&gt;Know that I always cared&lt;br /&gt;I may have been away without you&lt;br /&gt;But my heart was always here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never forget&lt;br /&gt;I never left&lt;br /&gt;Always there in the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Hard to believe&lt;br /&gt;Because you couldn't see&lt;br /&gt;Always there when I mattered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never meant life to fall this way&lt;br /&gt;So much to sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;I never thought life would pass away&lt;br /&gt;And at such a high price&lt;br /&gt;Feel we're still one&lt;br /&gt;That love hasn't gone&lt;br /&gt;I sense everything about you&lt;br /&gt;Around me when I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;Know that you'll always be&lt;br /&gt;Deep in the heart of me&lt;br /&gt;No matter where I am today&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be a part of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never forget&lt;br /&gt;I never left&lt;br /&gt;Always there in the shadows&lt;br /&gt;Hard to believe&lt;br /&gt;Because you couldn't see&lt;br /&gt;Always there when I mattered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still here&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-3544861131768334684?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3544861131768334684/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=3544861131768334684' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3544861131768334684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3544861131768334684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/atb-still-here.html' title='ATB - Still Here'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-984277801506323963</id><published>2009-05-19T19:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T19:25:34.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evanescence - Hello</title><content type='html'>Playground school bell rings again&lt;br /&gt;Rain clouds come to play again&lt;br /&gt;Has no one told you she's not breathing?&lt;br /&gt;Hello...&lt;br /&gt;I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to&lt;br /&gt;Hello...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I smile and don't believe&lt;br /&gt;Soon I know I'll wake from this dream&lt;br /&gt;Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken&lt;br /&gt;Hello...&lt;br /&gt;I am the lie living for you so you can hide&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping&lt;br /&gt;Hello&lt;br /&gt;I'm still here&lt;br /&gt;All that's left of yesterday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-984277801506323963?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/984277801506323963/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=984277801506323963' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/984277801506323963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/984277801506323963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/evanescence-hello.html' title='Evanescence - Hello'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-9013411934463675285</id><published>2009-04-22T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:32:50.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elisa - Rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fcvaUN-S1vc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fcvaUN-S1vc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not an enemy anymore&lt;br /&gt;There's a ray of light upon your face now&lt;br /&gt;I can look into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And I never thought it could be so simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can hear the music with no sounds&lt;br /&gt;You can heal my heart without me knowing&lt;br /&gt;I can cry in front of you&lt;br /&gt;Cause you're not afraid to face my weakness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we'll wake up&lt;br /&gt;Some morning rain will wash away our pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause it never began for us&lt;br /&gt;It'll never end for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not my enemy anymore&lt;br /&gt;There's a ray of light upon your face now&lt;br /&gt;It will be all new again&lt;br /&gt;There is something else just 'round the corner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when we'll wake up&lt;br /&gt;Some morning rain will wash away our pain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause it never began for us&lt;br /&gt;It'll never end for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking for a place to stay&lt;br /&gt;Are you looking for a place to stay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it never began for us&lt;br /&gt;It'll never end for us&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-9013411934463675285?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/9013411934463675285/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=9013411934463675285' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/9013411934463675285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/9013411934463675285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/elisa-rainbow.html' title='Elisa - Rainbow'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-3295903076231081871</id><published>2009-04-20T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T17:11:44.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"O mundo é composto por 10 tipos de pessoas: pelos que entendem binário e pelos que não entendem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Desconhecido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-3295903076231081871?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3295903076231081871/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=3295903076231081871' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3295903076231081871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3295903076231081871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-mundo-e-composto-por-10-tipos-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-2548232391539227755</id><published>2009-04-20T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T17:09:17.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ego, o esquilo que não tinha nome</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;No meio da floresta havia uma montanha. Na montanha, uma caverna comprida, úmida e escura que ia dar em lugar nenhum. Era só um caminho pro escuro, prum lugar onde nada mais se via, pro breu.&lt;br /&gt;Um esquilo curioso que não tinha nome entrou na caverna ao fugir dos perigos da floresta à noite, do pio das corujas, do vôo rasteiro dos morcegos, do farfalhar dos arbustos.&lt;br /&gt;Lá dentro, o escuro era mais escuro e os barulhos ecoavam, multiplicando-se e multiplicando-se ad eternum. Ele sentiu ainda mais medo e se encolheu, num canto úmido, cobrindo a cabeça com a cauda peluda.&lt;br /&gt;Pela manhã a luz do sol invadia a caverna. Do lado de fora, tudo parecia um borrão muito claro e branco onde quase nada se via. O esquilinho piscou o olho várias vezes até conseguir descobrir o que acontecia ali.&lt;br /&gt;Ele estava numa caverna de pedra fria e úmida, mas disso ele lembrava, da noite anterior. Lembrava também do medo que sentiu, e do frio, e dos barulhos. Com o sol, nada parecia tão assustador... os filetes de água que desciam pelas paredes da caverna refletiam o sol, eram agora filetes brilhosos... as pedras tinham diferentes tons de cinza, de verde musgo. Teias de aranha davam à caverna um certo charme, caindo como véus das estalactites. Tudo parecia em seu devido lugar.&lt;br /&gt;O esquilinho sem nome gostou dali, sentiu ter descoberto num novo lugar só dele. Quis sair da caverna, ir contar pros outros esquilos de seu novo recanto, tão mágico, tão seu.&lt;br /&gt;Saiu.&lt;br /&gt;Contou. E contou e contou. E falou da noite segura que teve na caverna já que ninguém a conhecia, só ele, já que era úmida e parecia sombria.&lt;br /&gt;A noite chegou e ele foi da floresta escura pro breu de sua caverna.&lt;br /&gt;Chegando lá, não era cheiro de água e terra molhada que sentia. Sentia cheiro de esquilo, barulho de esquilo, pisava em esquilos até achar um canto pra se acomodar e tentar dormir. Havia outros esquilos ali.&lt;br /&gt;O esquilo sem nome passou aquela noite em claro. Ele bem que podia ser só mais um esquilo durante todo o dia, podia não ter nome, podia ser só mais um outro esquilo... Mas ele já tinha descoberto o que era ser especial, por uma noite ele descobriu o que era ser alguém, indivíduo, ele mesmo... e ter um canto só dele.&lt;br /&gt;Não sabia mais ser só mais um daqueles esquilo sem nome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luísa Gutman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, retirado do blog &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-2548232391539227755?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2548232391539227755/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=2548232391539227755' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2548232391539227755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2548232391539227755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/ego-o-esquilo-que-nao-tinha-nome.html' title='Ego, o esquilo que não tinha nome'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1006307325048708508</id><published>2009-03-26T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T17:27:08.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah Brighhtman &amp; Andrea Bocelli - Canto Della Terra</title><content type='html'>Si, lo so, amore, che io e te&lt;br /&gt;(Sim, eu sei, amor, que eu e você)&lt;br /&gt;Forse stiamo insieme&lt;br /&gt;(Talvez estamos juntos)&lt;br /&gt;Solo qualche instante&lt;br /&gt;(somente por algum instante)&lt;br /&gt;Zitti stiamo ad ascoltare&lt;br /&gt;(Mudos estamos a escutar)&lt;br /&gt;Il cielo alla finestra&lt;br /&gt;(O céu da janela)&lt;br /&gt;Questo mondo che&lt;br /&gt;(Este mundo que)&lt;br /&gt;Si sveglia e la notte e&lt;br /&gt;(se desperta e a noite é)&lt;br /&gt;Gia cosi lontana&lt;br /&gt;(Já assim distante)&lt;br /&gt;Gia lontana&lt;br /&gt;(Já distante)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guarda questa terra che&lt;br /&gt;(Olha esta terra que)&lt;br /&gt;Che gira insieme a noi&lt;br /&gt;(Que gira junto a nós)&lt;br /&gt;Anche quando e buio&lt;br /&gt;(Até quando está escuro)&lt;br /&gt;Guarda questa terra che&lt;br /&gt;(Olha esta terra que)&lt;br /&gt;Che gira anche per noi&lt;br /&gt;(Que gira também para nós)&lt;br /&gt;A darci un po' di sole&lt;br /&gt;(Para nos dar um pouco de sol)&lt;br /&gt;Sole, sole&lt;br /&gt;(Sol, sol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love, che sei l'amore mio&lt;br /&gt;(Meu amor, que és o meu amor)&lt;br /&gt;Sento la tua voce&lt;br /&gt;(Ouço a tua voz)&lt;br /&gt;E ascolto il mare&lt;br /&gt;(E escuto o mar)&lt;br /&gt;Sembra davvero il tuo respiro&lt;br /&gt;(Parece deveras seu respiro)&lt;br /&gt;L'amore che mi dai&lt;br /&gt;(O amor que me dá)&lt;br /&gt;Questo amore che&lt;br /&gt;(Este amor que)&lt;br /&gt;Sta li nascosto&lt;br /&gt;(Está aí escondido)&lt;br /&gt;In mezzo alle sue onde&lt;br /&gt;(No meio das suas ondas)&lt;br /&gt;A tutte le sue onde&lt;br /&gt;(De todas as suas ondas)&lt;br /&gt;Come una barca che&lt;br /&gt;(Como uma barca que)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guarda questa terra che&lt;br /&gt;(Olha esta terra que)&lt;br /&gt;Che gira insieme a noi&lt;br /&gt;(Que gira junto a nós)&lt;br /&gt;Anche quando e buio&lt;br /&gt;(Até quando está escuro)&lt;br /&gt;Guarda questa terra che&lt;br /&gt;(Olha esta terra que)&lt;br /&gt;Che gira anche per noi&lt;br /&gt;(Que gira também para nós)&lt;br /&gt;A darci un po' di sole&lt;br /&gt;(Para nos dar um pouco de sol)&lt;br /&gt;Sole&lt;br /&gt;(Sol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mighty sun, mighty sun&lt;br /&gt;(Poderoso sol, poderoso sol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sarah Brithman &amp;amp; Andrea Bocelli - Canto Della Terra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1006307325048708508?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1006307325048708508/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1006307325048708508' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1006307325048708508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1006307325048708508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/sarah-brithman-andrea-bocelli-canto.html' title='Sarah Brighhtman &amp; Andrea Bocelli - Canto Della Terra'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8847269080042986289</id><published>2009-03-26T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T21:41:51.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nessun Dorma</title><content type='html'>Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!&lt;br /&gt;Tu pure, o Principessa,&lt;br /&gt;Nella tua fredda stanza&lt;br /&gt;Guardi le stelle&lt;br /&gt;Che tremano d’amore&lt;br /&gt;E di speranza…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,&lt;br /&gt;Il nome mio nessun saprà!&lt;br /&gt;No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò,&lt;br /&gt;Quando la luce splenderà!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio&lt;br /&gt;Che ti fa mia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il nome suo nessun saprà&lt;br /&gt;E noi dovrem ahimè, morir, morir!&lt;br /&gt;Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle!&lt;br /&gt;Tramontate, stelle!&lt;br /&gt;All’alba vincerò!&lt;br /&gt;Vincerò! Vincerò!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Turandot, Act III - Aria: Nessun Dorma written by Giacomo Puccini&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8847269080042986289?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8847269080042986289/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8847269080042986289' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8847269080042986289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8847269080042986289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/nessun-dorma.html' title='Nessun Dorma'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4226182882827794053</id><published>2009-03-16T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T18:02:15.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kamelot - Memento Mori</title><content type='html'>Who wants to separate&lt;br /&gt;The world we know from our beliefs?&lt;br /&gt;And who sees only black and white&lt;br /&gt;Distinguish loss from sacrifice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some day we may come to peace&lt;br /&gt;With the world within ourselves&lt;br /&gt;And I will await you until I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Close my eyes, close my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some day we will come to peace&lt;br /&gt;And reach beyond behind the lies&lt;br /&gt;And I will await you until I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Close my eyes, close my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Kamelot em "Memento Mori"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4226182882827794053?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4226182882827794053/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4226182882827794053' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4226182882827794053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4226182882827794053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/kamelot-memento-mori.html' title='Kamelot - Memento Mori'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-6823843485741292173</id><published>2009-03-09T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T22:06:39.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Qualcosa che non c'è</title><content type='html'>Tutto questo tempo a chiedermi&lt;br /&gt;(Todo este tempo a me perguntar)&lt;br /&gt;Cos'è che non mi lascia in pace&lt;br /&gt;(O que não me deixa em paz)&lt;br /&gt;Tutti questi anni a chiedermi&lt;br /&gt;(Todos estes anos a me perguntar)&lt;br /&gt;Se vado veramente bene&lt;br /&gt;(Se vou realmente bem)&lt;br /&gt;Così, come sono, così...&lt;br /&gt;(Assim, como sou, assim...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Così un giorno&lt;br /&gt;(Assim um dia)&lt;br /&gt;Ho scritto sul quaderno&lt;br /&gt;(Escrevi num caderno)&lt;br /&gt;Io farò sognare il mondo con la musica&lt;br /&gt;(Farei o mundo sonhar com a música)&lt;br /&gt;Non molto tempo dopo&lt;br /&gt;(Não muito tempo depois)&lt;br /&gt;Quando mi bastava fare un salto&lt;br /&gt;(Quando me bastava dar um salto)&lt;br /&gt;Per raggiungere la felicità&lt;br /&gt;(Para alcançar a felicidade)&lt;br /&gt;E la verità è che&lt;br /&gt;(E a verdade é que)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho aspettato a lungo&lt;br /&gt;(Esperei por muito tempo)&lt;br /&gt;Qualcosa che non c'è&lt;br /&gt;(Algo que não existe)&lt;br /&gt;Invece di guardare il sole sorgere&lt;br /&gt;(Em vez de ver o sol surgir)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questo è sempre stato un modo&lt;br /&gt;(Este sempre foi um modo)&lt;br /&gt;Per fermare il tempo e la velocità&lt;br /&gt;(De parar o tempo e a velocidade)&lt;br /&gt;I passi svelti della gente&lt;br /&gt;(Os passos apressados das pessoas)&lt;br /&gt;La disattenzione&lt;br /&gt;(A desatenção)&lt;br /&gt;Le parole dette senza umiltà&lt;br /&gt;(As palavras ditas sem humildade)&lt;br /&gt;Senza cuore, così&lt;br /&gt;(Sem coração, assim)&lt;br /&gt;Solo per far rumore&lt;br /&gt;(Só para fazer barulho)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho aspettato a lungo&lt;br /&gt;(Esperei por muito tempo)&lt;br /&gt;Qualcosa che non c'è&lt;br /&gt;(Algo que não existe)&lt;br /&gt;Invece di guardare il sole sorgere&lt;br /&gt;(Em vez de ver o sol surgir)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E miracolosamente non&lt;br /&gt;(E milagrosamente não)&lt;br /&gt;Ho smesso di sognare&lt;br /&gt;(Desisti de sonhar)&lt;br /&gt;E miracolosamente non&lt;br /&gt;(E milagrosamente não)&lt;br /&gt;Riesco a non sperare&lt;br /&gt;(Não arrisco não esperar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se c'è un segreto&lt;br /&gt;(E se há um segredo)&lt;br /&gt;E' fare tutto come se&lt;br /&gt;(É fazer tudo como se)&lt;br /&gt;Vedessi solo il sole&lt;br /&gt;(Visse só o sol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un segreto è fare tutto come se&lt;br /&gt;(Um segredo é fazer tudo como se)&lt;br /&gt;Vedessi solo il sole&lt;br /&gt;(Visse só o Sol)&lt;br /&gt;E non qualcosa che non c'è&lt;br /&gt;(E não algo que não existe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Song performed by Elisa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-6823843485741292173?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6823843485741292173/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=6823843485741292173' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6823843485741292173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6823843485741292173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/qualcosa-che-non-ce.html' title='Qualcosa che non c&apos;è'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1531879345028840490</id><published>2009-01-23T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T17:32:36.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Querer, gostar amar, três, dois, um.</title><content type='html'>Por quem esse coração bate?&lt;br /&gt;Bate, bate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bate por amor?&lt;br /&gt;Bate por alguém?&lt;br /&gt;Bate por mim?&lt;br /&gt;Bate por amor... por amor nenhum?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que importa por que bate!?&lt;br /&gt;Deixe que ele bata, sem rumo, tão rápido... ah... disparado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixe que dispare à toa. Não preciso de nada mais.&lt;br /&gt;Deixe que o coração bata por quem quiser, por que se quer....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bata pela memória, calafrio,&lt;br /&gt;Bata pela presença, calor, carinho,&lt;br /&gt;Bata pela promessa, coraçãozinho... Bata...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai batendo forte por aí....&lt;br /&gt;Bate que já chega de apanhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Retirado do blog &lt;a href="http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1531879345028840490?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1531879345028840490/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1531879345028840490' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1531879345028840490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1531879345028840490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/querer-gostar-amar-trs-dois-um.html' title='Querer, gostar amar, três, dois, um.'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-6989693904612956072</id><published>2009-01-15T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T16:59:32.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nacib Véio</title><content type='html'>Êta, Nacib Véio&lt;br /&gt;Meu amigo pra daná!&lt;br /&gt;Come farinha e macarrão&lt;br /&gt;Até não se agüentá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sou marinheiro&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou memo é capitão!&lt;br /&gt;Eu não navego por dinheiro&lt;br /&gt;Meu navio é a emoção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia Preta, tira o leite da teta da vaca!&lt;br /&gt;Tiroleia, tiroleia na teta da vaca!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;João falou pro irmão:&lt;br /&gt;Adão, coma o feijão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta poeira, boi!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta no pó!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta poeira, boi!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta no pó, é nóis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Êta Nacib Véio!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta poeira, boi!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta no pó!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta poeira, boi!&lt;br /&gt;Êra boi, senta no pó, é nóis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Êta Nacib Véio!&lt;br /&gt;Meu amigo pra daná!&lt;br /&gt;Seu pai morreu tão cedo&lt;br /&gt;Lhe restou foi trabalhar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sou marinheiro,&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou memo é capitão!&lt;br /&gt;Eu não navego por dinheiro&lt;br /&gt;Faço isto por paixão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tia Preta, tira o leite da teta da vaca!&lt;br /&gt;Tiroleia, tiroleia na teta da vaca!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;João falou pro irmão:&lt;br /&gt;Adão, coma o feijão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abre a janela, deixa o sol entrar&lt;br /&gt;Casca de canela, aroma de chá&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raspa de tacho, cama de gato, madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Bico de pato, bicho do mato, lua cheia&lt;br /&gt;Pano de prato, uva no cacho, Goiabada&lt;br /&gt;Briga de galo, pisa no calo, rinha cheia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai ai! A comida na mesa esperando o pai,&lt;br /&gt;Severina e Teresa chorando!&lt;br /&gt;Ai, ai! Esperando o pai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fogo de palha, morte no cais, assustada&lt;br /&gt;Príncipe sapo, beijo engasgado. E a sereia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Song by Rafael Bittencourt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-6989693904612956072?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6989693904612956072/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=6989693904612956072' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6989693904612956072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6989693904612956072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/nacib-vio.html' title='Nacib Véio'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-2203223946726134271</id><published>2009-01-13T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T18:07:00.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiven</title><content type='html'>Couldn't save you from the start&lt;br /&gt;Love you so it hurts my soul&lt;br /&gt;Can you forgive me for trying again&lt;br /&gt;Your silence makes me hold my breath&lt;br /&gt;Time has passed you by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long I've tried to shield you from the world&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't face the freedom on your own&lt;br /&gt;Here I am left in silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gave up the fight&lt;br /&gt;You left me behind&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be mine&lt;br /&gt;I know deep inside&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the clouds drifting away&lt;br /&gt;Still the sun can't warm my face&lt;br /&gt;I know it was destined to go wrong&lt;br /&gt;You were looking for the great escape&lt;br /&gt;To chase your demons away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long I've tried to shield you from the world&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't face the freedom on your own&lt;br /&gt;And here I am left in silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gave up the fight&lt;br /&gt;You left me behind&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be mine&lt;br /&gt;I know deep inside&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been so lost since you've gone&lt;br /&gt;Why not me before you?&lt;br /&gt;Why did fate deceive me?&lt;br /&gt;Everything turned out so wrong&lt;br /&gt;Why did you leave me in silence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gave up the fight&lt;br /&gt;You left me behind&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;You'll always be mine&lt;br /&gt;I know deep inside&lt;br /&gt;All that's done's forgiven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Song by Within Temptation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-2203223946726134271?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2203223946726134271/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=2203223946726134271' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2203223946726134271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2203223946726134271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/forgiven.html' title='Forgiven'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-5601373569192550846</id><published>2009-01-12T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T17:55:10.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All I Need</title><content type='html'>I'm dying to catch my breath&lt;br /&gt;Why don't I ever learn?&lt;br /&gt;I've lost all my trust though I've surely tried&lt;br /&gt;To turn it around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you still see the heart of me?&lt;br /&gt;All my agony fades away&lt;br /&gt;When you hold me in your embrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down for all I need&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;Give me something I can believe&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down&lt;br /&gt;You've opened the door&lt;br /&gt;Now don't let it close&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here on the edge again&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could let it go&lt;br /&gt;I know that I'm only one step away&lt;br /&gt;From turning around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you still see the heart of me?&lt;br /&gt;All my agony fades away&lt;br /&gt;When you hold me in your embrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down for all I need&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;Give me something I can believe&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear it down&lt;br /&gt;What's left of me&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried many times but nothing was real&lt;br /&gt;Make it fade away&lt;br /&gt;Don't break me down&lt;br /&gt;I want to believe that this is for real&lt;br /&gt;Save me from my fear&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down for all I need&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear me down for all I need&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;Give me something I can believe&lt;br /&gt;Don't tear it down&lt;br /&gt;What's left of me&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make my heart a better place...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Song performed by Within Temptation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-5601373569192550846?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5601373569192550846/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=5601373569192550846' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5601373569192550846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5601373569192550846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/all-i-need.html' title='All I Need'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4454941671574201165</id><published>2008-12-27T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T13:13:25.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Metade</title><content type='html'>Que a força do medo que tenho&lt;br /&gt;Não me impeça de ver o que anseio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que a morte de tudo em que acredito&lt;br /&gt;Não me tape os ouvidos e a boca&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é o que eu grito&lt;br /&gt;Mas a outra metade é silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que a música que ouço ao longe&lt;br /&gt;Seja linda ainda que tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Que a mulher que eu amo seja pra sempre amada&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que distante&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é partida&lt;br /&gt;Mas a outra metade é saudade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que as palavras que eu falo&lt;br /&gt;Não sejam ouvidas como prece e nem repetidas com fervor&lt;br /&gt;Apenas respeitadas&lt;br /&gt;Como a única coisa que resta a um homem inundado de sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é o que ouço&lt;br /&gt;Mas a outra metade é o que calo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que essa minha vontade de ir embora&lt;br /&gt;Se transforme na calma e na paz que eu mereço&lt;br /&gt;E que essa tensão que me corrói por dentro&lt;br /&gt;Seja um dia recompensada&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é o que eu penso, mas a outra metade é um vulcão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que o medo da solidão se afaste&lt;br /&gt;E que o convívio comigo mesmo se torne ao menos suportável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que o espelho reflita em meu rosto um doce sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Que eu me lembro ter dado na infância&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é a lembrança do que fui,&lt;br /&gt;A outra metade eu não sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que não seja preciso mais do que uma simples alegria&lt;br /&gt;Pra me fazer aquietar o espírito&lt;br /&gt;E que o teu silêncio me fale cada vez mais&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é abrigo&lt;br /&gt;Mas a outra metade é cansaço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que a arte nos aponte uma resposta&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que ela não saiba&lt;br /&gt;E que ninguém a tente complicar&lt;br /&gt;Porque é preciso simplicidade pra fazê-la florescer&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é a platéia&lt;br /&gt;A outra metade é a canção.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E que a minha loucura seja perdoada&lt;br /&gt;Porque metade de mim é amor&lt;br /&gt;E a outra metade também.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oswaldo Montenegro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4454941671574201165?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4454941671574201165/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4454941671574201165' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4454941671574201165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4454941671574201165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/12/metade.html' title='Metade'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-638069244561034376</id><published>2008-12-24T05:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T05:20:52.768-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Luísa Gutman'/><title type='text'>Frangalhos</title><content type='html'>Minha cabeça tá bagunçada...&lt;br /&gt;Tá tudo fora dos eixos.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tou em frangalhos... retalhos, repiques, relíquias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os recortes de novidade já estão pegando o cheiro de pó das antiguidades...&lt;br /&gt;Num mesmo balcão, o jornal de hoje cobre velharias...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vê se entende...&lt;br /&gt;Eu já sinto a sua falta.&lt;br /&gt;E é ela que tá me fazendo sentir tanto....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desculpe minha reação exagerada,&lt;br /&gt;Você tá me ensinando tanta coisa...&lt;br /&gt;Mas não sabia que ia reaprender sobre sentir saudade....&lt;br /&gt;Eu achei que soubesse de tudo que se dá pra sentir.&lt;br /&gt;(Obrigada por mostrar que não.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vê se volta logo...&lt;br /&gt;tudo em você me faz falta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Retirado de &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://luisacoms.blogspot.com/&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-638069244561034376?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/638069244561034376/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=638069244561034376' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/638069244561034376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/638069244561034376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/12/frangalhos.html' title='Frangalhos'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-7417492728414746104</id><published>2008-09-09T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T18:52:42.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amanda Nakazato'/><title type='text'>Como meu coração se comporta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não sei rezar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não sei quem ouve meus pensamentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Quando o Sol se esconde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Segurar o fôlego não adianta mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Quando a chama já se apagou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Toda boa lembrança que guardo em minha bagagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Que carrego desde o primeiro piscar de olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não segura a dor, o pesar, o vazio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;A folha em branco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;A ponta do lápis apontada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;A tinta secando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;As árvores secas, folhas ao vento se quebrando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;O verde sem a cor, sem o perfume das flores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Tudo à espera do momento certo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;A Lua se esconde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;E então eu tento,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Mas as cordas estão desafinadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Os versos não são verdadeiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Palavras erradas, mal colocadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não dizem nada, vazias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Refletindo um corpo que segue sem alma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Voltará um dia, a Lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;A brilhar como antes, encantar como nunca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Talvez eu não esteja mais aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Ou terei me esquecido da beleza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Que sempre busquei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Que sempre sonhei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Beleza perdida em mim, somente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Sufocada em raízes que cresceram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Alimentadas pela ilusão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Enquanto eu sonhava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Enquanto me perdia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não sei mais o que sinto, escrevo do que não sei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Talvez eu possa apreciar o laranja do céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não sentir o coração queimar no gélido vácuo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Recuperar o fôlego, renovar o ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Ver o Sol, ver a Lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Aproveitar a luz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Quando puder sentir meu coração bater novamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Não apenas como um músculo que desfalece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Mas com o calor que corre nas veias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Que me mantém em pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Que me faz precisar de você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Retirado do blog http://newreverie.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-7417492728414746104?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7417492728414746104/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=7417492728414746104' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7417492728414746104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7417492728414746104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/09/como-meu-corao-se-comporta.html' title='Como meu coração se comporta'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-5806817141659323348</id><published>2008-09-03T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:17:56.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esquadros</title><content type='html'>Eu ando pelo mundo prestando atenção&lt;br /&gt;Em cores que eu não sei o nome&lt;br /&gt;Cores de Almodóvar&lt;br /&gt;Cores de Frida Kahlo, cores...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passeio pelo escuro&lt;br /&gt;Eu presto muita atenção no que meu irmão ouve&lt;br /&gt;E como uma segunda pele, um calo, uma casca&lt;br /&gt;Uma cápsula protetora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, eu quero chegar antes&lt;br /&gt;Pra sinalizar o estar de cada coisa,&lt;br /&gt;Filtrar seus graus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo divertindo gente&lt;br /&gt;Chorando ao telefone&lt;br /&gt;E vendo doer a fome&lt;br /&gt;Nos meninos que têm fome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do quarto&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do carro&lt;br /&gt;Pela tela, pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Quem é ela, quem é ela?&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo tudo enquadrado&lt;br /&gt;Remoto controle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo&lt;br /&gt;E os automóveis correm para quê?&lt;br /&gt;As crianças correm para onde?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transito entre dois lados de um lado&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto de opostos&lt;br /&gt;Exponho o meu modo, me mostro&lt;br /&gt;Eu canto para quem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do quarto&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do carro&lt;br /&gt;Pela tela, pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Quem é ela, quem é ela?&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo tudo enquadrado&lt;br /&gt;Remoto controle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando pelo mundo&lt;br /&gt;E meus amigos, cadê?&lt;br /&gt;Minha alegria, meu cansaço?&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor cadê você?&lt;br /&gt;Eu acordei&lt;br /&gt;Não tem ninguém ao lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do quarto&lt;br /&gt;Pela janela do carro&lt;br /&gt;Pela tela, pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Quem é ela, quem é ela?&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo tudo enquadrado&lt;br /&gt;Remoto controle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Música de Adriana Calcanhoto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-5806817141659323348?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5806817141659323348/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=5806817141659323348' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5806817141659323348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5806817141659323348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/09/esquadros.html' title='Esquadros'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-3813182701437820576</id><published>2008-08-27T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T21:08:00.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This I Promise You</title><content type='html'>When visions around you bring tears to your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And all that surround you are secrets and lies&lt;br /&gt;I'll be your strength, I'll give you hope&lt;br /&gt;Keeping your faith when it's gone&lt;br /&gt;The one you should call was standing here all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will take you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;And hold you right where you belong&lt;br /&gt;Till the day my life is through&lt;br /&gt;This I promise you, this I promise you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've loved you forever in lifetimes before&lt;br /&gt;And I promise you never will you hurt anymore&lt;br /&gt;I give you my word, I give you my heart&lt;br /&gt;This is a battle we've won&lt;br /&gt;And with this vow forever has now begun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just close your eyes each loving day&lt;br /&gt;I know this feeling won't go away&lt;br /&gt;Till the day my life is through&lt;br /&gt;This I promise you, this I promise you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and over I fall&lt;br /&gt;When I hear you call&lt;br /&gt;Without you in my life&lt;br /&gt;I just wouldn't be living at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will take you in my arms&lt;br /&gt;And hold you right where you belong&lt;br /&gt;Till the day my life is through&lt;br /&gt;This I promise you&lt;br /&gt;Just close your eyes each loving day&lt;br /&gt;I know this feeling won't go away&lt;br /&gt;Every word I say is true&lt;br /&gt;This I promise you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Song by N'Sync&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-3813182701437820576?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3813182701437820576/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=3813182701437820576' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3813182701437820576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/3813182701437820576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-i-promise-you.html' title='This I Promise You'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8110061611506592194</id><published>2008-08-24T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T18:52:42.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amanda Nakazato'/><title type='text'>Dois</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Vivemos sozinhos, juntos&lt;br /&gt;Ando sozinha por aqui, e você por aí&lt;br /&gt;Caminhamos pela mesma estrada&lt;br /&gt;Em trilhas paralelas&lt;br /&gt;Outrora caminho logo atrás&lt;br /&gt;Meus pés encaixam em suas pegadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;Rastros de passos pesados&lt;br /&gt;De passos sem compasso&lt;br /&gt;As mãos não se alcançam&lt;br /&gt;Dedos não se entrelaçam&lt;br /&gt;Olhares não se cruzam&lt;br /&gt;Os corações batem, na mesma intensidade&lt;br /&gt;Um por amor, outro por rancor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As flores são minhas&lt;br /&gt;Você coleciona pedras do caminho&lt;br /&gt;De que adianta&lt;br /&gt;O céu, a lua, estrelas, sonhos&lt;br /&gt;De que adianta tanta beleza&lt;br /&gt;Desperdiçada, despedaçada&lt;br /&gt;A esperança? Morre amargurada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a vida vai seguindo um rumo&lt;br /&gt;Sem voltar&lt;br /&gt;Sem seguir em frente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Retirado do blog http://newreverie.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8110061611506592194?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8110061611506592194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8110061611506592194' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8110061611506592194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8110061611506592194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/08/dois.html' title='Dois'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4369337294893315257</id><published>2008-08-22T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T19:52:44.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing</title><content type='html'>Time is gonna take my mind&lt;br /&gt;And carry it far away where I can fly&lt;br /&gt;The depth of life will dim&lt;br /&gt;My temptation to live for you&lt;br /&gt;If I were to be alone,&lt;br /&gt;Silence would rock my tears&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's all about love&lt;br /&gt;And I know better&lt;br /&gt;How life is a waving feather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put my arms around you, around you&lt;br /&gt;And I know that I'll be living soon&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are on you, they're on you&lt;br /&gt;And you see that I can't stop shaking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I won't step back&lt;br /&gt;But I'll look down to hide from your eyes&lt;br /&gt;'Cause what I feel is so sweet&lt;br /&gt;And I'm scared that even my own breath&lt;br /&gt;Could burst it if it were a bubble&lt;br /&gt;And I'd better dream if I have to struggle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put my arms around you, around you&lt;br /&gt;And I hope that I will do no wrong&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are on you, they're on you&lt;br /&gt;And I hope that you won't hurt me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm dancing in the room&lt;br /&gt;As if I was in the woods with you&lt;br /&gt;No need for anything but music&lt;br /&gt;Music's the reason why&lt;br /&gt;I know time still exists, time still exists...&lt;br /&gt;Time still exists, time still exists...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put my arms around you, around you&lt;br /&gt;And I hope that I will do no wrong&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are on you, they're on you&lt;br /&gt;And I hope that you won't hurt me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Música de Elisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4369337294893315257?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4369337294893315257/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4369337294893315257' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4369337294893315257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4369337294893315257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/08/dancing.html' title='Dancing'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-7966554437545340938</id><published>2008-08-20T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:17:56.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mentiras</title><content type='html'>Nada ficou no lugar&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero quebrar essas xícaras&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou enganar o diabo&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero acordar sua familia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou escrever no seu muro&lt;br /&gt;E violentar o seu rosto&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero roubar no seu jogo&lt;br /&gt;Eu já arranhei os seus discos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você volta&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você vem&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você olha pra mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada ficou no lugar&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero entregar suas mentiras&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou invadir sua aula&lt;br /&gt;Queria falar sua língua&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Eu vou publicar seus segredos&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou mergulhar sua guia&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou derramar nos seus planos&lt;br /&gt;O resto da minha alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você volta&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você vem&lt;br /&gt;Que é para ver se você olha pra mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Música de Adriana Calcanhoto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-7966554437545340938?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7966554437545340938/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=7966554437545340938' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7966554437545340938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/7966554437545340938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/08/mentiras.html' title='Mentiras'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1507998706684205572</id><published>2008-08-08T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T22:07:22.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everybody's Gonna Learn Sometime...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;I don't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;I wouldn't think that about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;Because I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;Because it really hurts me that you said that because I don't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;I'm so sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;I'm sorry about all this. I'm gonna... go. I'm a little confused. I don't really think I can be here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clem walks through the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;Hmm... bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;It was nice to meet you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Joel follows Clem before she leaves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;I don't know. Just wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;What do you want, Joel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Just wait! I don't know. I want you to wait for... just a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clem hesitates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;I'm not a concept, Joel. I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. I'm not perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;I can't see anything that I don't like about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;But you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Right now I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;But you will. You know, you will think of things, and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped... because that's what happens with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Clem: &lt;/span&gt;Okay. Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joel: &lt;/span&gt;Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Both start laughing and crying at the same time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Excerpt of "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind", movie released in 2004&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1507998706684205572?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1507998706684205572/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1507998706684205572' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1507998706684205572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1507998706684205572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/08/everybodys-gonna-learn-sometimes.html' title='Everybody&apos;s Gonna Learn Sometime...'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-6808149162470075915</id><published>2008-07-18T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T20:05:59.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Eu tinha 27 anos na primeira vez que morri. Lembro que havia neve em volta de tudo. Havia uma guerra e me sentia com vida, mas, na verdade, estava morto. Às vezes, acredito que vivemos as coisas apenas para poder contar o que aconteceu. O que não aconteceu a outro, aconteceu a mim. Às vezes, vivemos para vencer os obstáculos. Eu não estou louco embora pensassem que estava, vivo no mesmo mundo que os outros. Só vi mais do que eles, como estou certo do que viu. Encontrarão meu corpo amanhã. Pode confirmar se não acreditar em mim. Eu vi a vida após minha morte e estou dizendo isto porque é a única forma de ajudar você e a sua filha a terem uma vida melhor. Jean, um dia você vai desmaiar fumando um cigarro e irá se queimar até morrer. Sua filha vai crescer vivendo a mesma tristeza que você vive agora. Ela sente muito a sua falta... Às vezes a vida só começa de verdade quando conhecemos a morte. Ao saber que tudo pode terminar, até mesmo quando você menos quer. O importante na vida é acreditar que enquanto estamos vivos nunca é tarde. Te prometo, Jean, não importa o quanto tudo pareça ruim, as coisas parecem melhores ao estarmos acordados do que dormindo. Quando morremos, só há uma coisa queremos que aconteça: queremos voltar..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jack Starks em Camisa de Força (The Jacket)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-6808149162470075915?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6808149162470075915/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=6808149162470075915' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6808149162470075915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6808149162470075915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/eu-tinha-27-anos-na-primeira-vez-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4005999157388914172</id><published>2008-07-18T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T18:48:26.733-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yoshiki Hayashi'/><title type='text'>Yoshiki Hayashi / Violet UK - Blind Dance</title><content type='html'>So silent without the rain&lt;br /&gt;But I hear a whisper&lt;br /&gt;Its sound remained&lt;br /&gt;Tells me to fall&lt;br /&gt;In the sea of blindness&lt;br /&gt;Tells me to descend&lt;br /&gt;Till I lose the light again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me in the place where I belong&lt;br /&gt;On the other side where God left me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Through the sightless night&lt;br /&gt;If it's truth or crime&lt;br /&gt;I just want you to cry&lt;br /&gt;Try to close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;See the blinding light&lt;br /&gt;If it's blue or white&lt;br /&gt;Can you picture my love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emptiness runs in the veins&lt;br /&gt;My flesh waits for the sound to me&lt;br /&gt;I felt alone when the mind lost its darkness&lt;br /&gt;I felt divine but I was lost in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will cross the night&lt;br /&gt;With my tameless spite&lt;br /&gt;If it's crucify&lt;br /&gt;I'll let free all delight&lt;br /&gt;Till the morning chimes&lt;br /&gt;See the bleeding sky&lt;br /&gt;If you could justify&lt;br /&gt;I'll be blind to this love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will cross the night&lt;br /&gt;With my tameless spite&lt;br /&gt;If it's crucified&lt;br /&gt;I'll let free all delight&lt;br /&gt;Till the morning chimes&lt;br /&gt;See the bleeding sky&lt;br /&gt;If you could justify&lt;br /&gt;I'll be blind to this love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See butterflies with flowers&lt;br /&gt;Fly across the night without any fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Through the sightless night&lt;br /&gt;If it's truth or crime&lt;br /&gt;I just want you to cry&lt;br /&gt;Try to close your eyes&lt;br /&gt;See the blinding light&lt;br /&gt;If it's blue or white&lt;br /&gt;Can you picture my love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my tameless spite&lt;br /&gt;If it's crucified&lt;br /&gt;I'll let free all deep light&lt;br /&gt;Till the morning chimes&lt;br /&gt;See the bleeding sky&lt;br /&gt;If you could justify&lt;br /&gt;I'll be blind to this love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Song composed by Yoshiki Hayashi and performed by Violet UK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4005999157388914172?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4005999157388914172/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4005999157388914172' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4005999157388914172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4005999157388914172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/yoshiki-hayashi-violet-uk-blind-dance.html' title='Yoshiki Hayashi / Violet UK - Blind Dance'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-6244526630170369041</id><published>2008-07-16T21:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T21:18:45.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gli Ostacoli Del Cuore</title><content type='html'>C'è un principio di magia&lt;br /&gt;Fra gli ostacoli del cuore&lt;br /&gt;Che si attacca volentieri&lt;br /&gt;Fra una sera che non muore&lt;br /&gt;E una notte da scartare&lt;br /&gt;Come un pacco di natale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'è un principio d'ironia&lt;br /&gt;Nel tenere coccolati&lt;br /&gt;I pensieri più segreti&lt;br /&gt;E trovarli già svelati&lt;br /&gt;E a parlare ero io&lt;br /&gt;Sono io che li ho prestati&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non sai di me&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non puoi sapere&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose da portare nel viaggio insieme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'è un principio di allegria&lt;br /&gt;Fra gli ostacoli del cuore&lt;br /&gt;Che mi voglio meritare&lt;br /&gt;Anche mentre guardo il mare&lt;br /&gt;Mentre lascio naufragare&lt;br /&gt;Un ridicolo pensiero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non sai di me&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non puoi sapere&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose da portare nel viaggio insieme&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non sai di me&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose devi meritare&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose da buttare nel viaggio insieme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'è un principio di energia&lt;br /&gt;Che mi spinge a dondolare&lt;br /&gt;Fra il mio dire ed il mio fare&lt;br /&gt;E sentire fa rumore&lt;br /&gt;Fa rumore camminare&lt;br /&gt;Fra gli ostacoli del cuore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non sai di me&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non puoi sapere&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose da portare nel viaggio insieme&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non sai di me&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose che non vuoi sapere&lt;br /&gt;Quante cose da buttare nel viaggio insieme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Song performed by Elisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-6244526630170369041?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6244526630170369041/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=6244526630170369041' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6244526630170369041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/6244526630170369041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/gli-ostacoli-del-cuore.html' title='Gli Ostacoli Del Cuore'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8296404600150007730</id><published>2008-07-09T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T14:24:28.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake Up In New York</title><content type='html'>Wake up in New York&lt;br /&gt;Put a comb through your hair&lt;br /&gt;Don't you ever want to lie down&lt;br /&gt;When there's no-one else around&lt;br /&gt;I want to say this to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I hurt you&lt;br /&gt;You know you hurt me too&lt;br /&gt;Don't you ever want to lie down&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes and leave the ground?&lt;br /&gt;I want to get hold of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll meet you in New York&lt;br /&gt;By the drugstore on First Avenue&lt;br /&gt;And then we will lie down&lt;br /&gt;With the buildings all around&lt;br /&gt;I want to say this to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to say this to you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wake Up In New York composed by Craig Armstrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8296404600150007730?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8296404600150007730/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8296404600150007730' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8296404600150007730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8296404600150007730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/wake-up-in-new-york.html' title='Wake Up In New York'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-1580938285041622781</id><published>2008-07-07T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T18:48:26.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yoshiki Hayashi'/><title type='text'>Amethyst</title><content type='html'>You're only a whisper away&lt;br /&gt;But I can't touch your heart&lt;br /&gt;If the words aren't enough to bear your soul&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you the moon&lt;br /&gt;You're always shining sun or rain&lt;br /&gt;Like a violet stone&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes but you never fade&lt;br /&gt;You never disappear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel alone&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see me standing on&lt;br /&gt;The verge of blue?&lt;br /&gt;I'll be watching all the stars&lt;br /&gt;Till they are gone&lt;br /&gt;Should I know nothing could make me&lt;br /&gt;Miss you less?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I've been waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;To tell me what is love&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to be loved&lt;br /&gt;How to be by your side&lt;br /&gt;Morning light shines in my room&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding dreams of you&lt;br /&gt;It may take no less than this pain&lt;br /&gt;But I can't stop loving you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel my heart&lt;br /&gt;You have never known that you&lt;br /&gt;Have all of me&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see you I'm&lt;br /&gt;Falling in love&lt;br /&gt;I could live a lie again&lt;br /&gt;But without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I've been waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;To tell me what is love&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to be loved&lt;br /&gt;How to be by your side&lt;br /&gt;Morning light shines in my room&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding dreams of you&lt;br /&gt;It may take no less than my life&lt;br /&gt;But I can't stop loving you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amethyst composed by Yoshiki Hayashi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instrumental version originally performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra&lt;br /&gt;Arranged by Graham Preskett, solo violin performed by Joakim Svenheden&lt;br /&gt;Released in 1993 on album Eternal Melody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song got lyrics in 2002 for the Symphonic Concert&lt;br /&gt;Performed by the Violet UK vocalist Daughter&lt;br /&gt;Yoshiki plays piano together with the Tokyo City Philharmonic Orchestra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-1580938285041622781?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1580938285041622781/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=1580938285041622781' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1580938285041622781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/1580938285041622781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/amethyst.html' title='Amethyst'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-109382921238481337</id><published>2008-07-05T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T21:26:21.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sina</title><content type='html'>Quando você me conhecer e olhar fundo nos meus olhos, você vai se apaixonar, porque todos se apaixonam.&lt;br /&gt;Você vai ficar encantado, seduzido. Você vai me amar como nunca amou ninguém e nunca poderá amar a outra pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;Esse amor vai arder, corroer seus ossos, carne, sangue.&lt;br /&gt;Você sentirá tudo a flor da pele.&lt;br /&gt;Você será sugado por essa paixão, tragado avassaladoramente.&lt;br /&gt;Esse amor vai transcender.&lt;br /&gt;Você irá transcender.&lt;br /&gt;E você vai ficar com medo, porque todos ficam com medo.&lt;br /&gt;E na sua covardia, você vai fugir, porque todos fogem.&lt;br /&gt;Vai me abandonar,&lt;br /&gt;e eu, sozinha vou sentir a sua falta,&lt;br /&gt;porque eu sempre sinto...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você vai seguir com a sua vida, porque todos seguem...&lt;br /&gt;mas sem jamais me esquecer, porque jamais me esquecem.&lt;br /&gt;Você vai me ter no fundo da sua alma, no fundo dos seus olhos, no fundo da sua garganta.&lt;br /&gt;E você vai querer gritar, me exorcisar de seu corpo, mente. Mas não será capaz, porque ninguém é.&lt;br /&gt;E faltando essa sua cartada final, você vai querer me ter mais uma vez, porque todos querem.&lt;br /&gt;Mas você não vai abrir mão da sua covardia e da sua vidinha que você construiu com aquela mulher bonita por quem você se apaixonou.&lt;br /&gt;Vai ter medo de magoá-la e mais ainda, de se magoar.&lt;br /&gt;Você vai desejar uma aventura, que te devolva a sensação de estar vivo.&lt;br /&gt;E você sabe que eu sou a pessoa exata para isso,&lt;br /&gt;porque ao meu lado você sempre se sentiu vivo, todos sentem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu vou seguir me apaixonando e apaixonando muitas vezes, e sempre sendo abandonada pela covardia.&lt;br /&gt;E vou seguir meu caminho sozinha,&lt;br /&gt;porque essa é a minha sina...&lt;br /&gt;Sozinha...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Sozinha...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Retirado do blog http://ninfadasartes.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-109382921238481337?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/109382921238481337/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=109382921238481337' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/109382921238481337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/109382921238481337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/07/sina.html' title='Sina'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-5676126132774165441</id><published>2008-06-17T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T18:48:26.734-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yoshiki Hayashi'/><title type='text'>X Japan - I.V.</title><content type='html'>Needles are piercing through my skin&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you the feeling what it's like&lt;br /&gt;Is life just all about deception?&lt;br /&gt;Please don't be a part of a fairy tale&lt;br /&gt;But you're so young to play with thy own will&lt;br /&gt;Should I trade the breath of my life for freedom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the rain&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling you, dear&lt;br /&gt;Find the way&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see me standing right here?&lt;br /&gt;Feel my pain&lt;br /&gt;Life's bleeding from fear&lt;br /&gt;Find its place&lt;br /&gt;I will give it straight from my vein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This never meant I can't sit by&lt;br /&gt;They say as if it takes me somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Just let me swallow the faith by injection&lt;br /&gt;Life better be rushing to my head, my love&lt;br /&gt;I've played with this game before&lt;br /&gt;To find a piece of my true self! I'm lost within!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the rain&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling you, dear&lt;br /&gt;Find the way&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see me standing right here?&lt;br /&gt;Feel my pain&lt;br /&gt;Life's bleeding from fear&lt;br /&gt;Find its place&lt;br /&gt;I will give it straight from my vein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling my pain&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel where it's been?&lt;br /&gt;Can you thrill with the history of the world&lt;br /&gt;And that suffer from its lie?&lt;br /&gt;Can the shape of the shadow fade,&lt;br /&gt;Forever fade away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling you, dear&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see me standing right here?&lt;br /&gt;Life's bleeding from fear&lt;br /&gt;I will give it straight from my vein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the rain&lt;br /&gt;I'm calling you, dear&lt;br /&gt;Find the way&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see me standing right here?&lt;br /&gt;Feel my pain&lt;br /&gt;Life's bleeding from fear&lt;br /&gt;Find its place&lt;br /&gt;I will give it straight from my vein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I.V. composta por Yoshiki Hayashi e interpretada por X Japan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-5676126132774165441?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5676126132774165441/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=5676126132774165441' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5676126132774165441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/5676126132774165441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/06/x-japan-iv.html' title='X Japan - I.V.'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-2110527438895771357</id><published>2008-06-07T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T20:24:17.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Um réu, mesmo sendo inocente, estava sendo condenado injustamente à pena de morte. O rei, mostrando-se ser benevolente frente ao seu povo, resolve o próprio réu escolhesse o seu destino: o rei escreveria em dois papéis distintos as palavras "inocente" e "culpado" e mandaria o réu escolher um deles. Porém, o rei escreveu nos dois pedaços de papel a palavra "culpado". Na hora de deixar que o réu escolhesse um dos papéis, o advogado tomou a palavra para si dizendo que, sendo ele advogado do réu, escolhesse o destino de seu cliente. O rei aceitou. Então o advogado escolheu um dos papéis, comeu, mastigou e engoliu. A população ficou pasma. Como saberiam o destino do pobre homem? O advogado respondeu: o destino dele é simplesmente o inverso do que está escrito no outro papel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Luiz Flávio Borges D'Urso, presidente da OAB de São Paulo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-2110527438895771357?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2110527438895771357/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=2110527438895771357' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2110527438895771357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2110527438895771357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/06/um-ru-mesmo-sendo-inocente-estava-sendo.html' title=''/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8162681120455655527</id><published>2008-05-23T18:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:17:56.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Metade</title><content type='html'>Eu perco o chão&lt;br /&gt;Eu não acho as palavras&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando tão triste&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando pela sala&lt;br /&gt;Eu perco a hora&lt;br /&gt;Eu chego no fim&lt;br /&gt;Eu deixo a porta aberta&lt;br /&gt;Eu não moro mais em mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu perco as chaves de casa&lt;br /&gt;Eu perco o freio&lt;br /&gt;Estou em milhares de cacos&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou ao meio&lt;br /&gt;Onde será que você está agora?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Música de Adriana Calcanhotto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8162681120455655527?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8162681120455655527/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8162681120455655527' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8162681120455655527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8162681120455655527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/metade.html' title='Metade'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-8533792532834362873</id><published>2008-05-23T18:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T18:29:24.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Uma coisa que me perturbou no quarto ano de colégio foi o fato de uma partícula viajar eternamente no espaço caso nada interferisse. Isso me tirou bons meses de sono. Aprendi? Não. Acostumei. Só fui parar de pensar quando achei alguma coisa melhor pra me preocupar. Depois disso, aceitar que a velocidade da luz era a mesma em qualquer lugar, de qualquer jeito ou em qualquer sentido foi fichinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Professor Adilson José da Silva do Instituto de Física da Universidade de São Paulo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-8533792532834362873?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8533792532834362873/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=8533792532834362873' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8533792532834362873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/8533792532834362873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/uma-coisa-que-me-perturbou-no-quarto.html' title=''/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-706137575890290730</id><published>2008-05-23T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T18:22:41.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tu eras também uma pequena folha&lt;br /&gt;que tremia no meu peito.&lt;br /&gt;O vento da vida pôs-te ali.&lt;br /&gt;A princípio não te vi: não soube&lt;br /&gt;que ias comigo,&lt;br /&gt;até que as tuas raízes&lt;br /&gt;atravessaram o meu peito,&lt;br /&gt;se uniram aos fios do meu sangue,&lt;br /&gt;falaram pela minha boca,&lt;br /&gt;floresceram comigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pablo Neruda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-706137575890290730?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/706137575890290730/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=706137575890290730' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/706137575890290730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/706137575890290730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/tu-eras-tambm-uma-pequena-folha-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-4696551465400116644</id><published>2008-05-23T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T18:17:22.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O lençol</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Está na Tabacaria que um dia Álvaro de Campos contou;&lt;br /&gt;naquele canto do quarto que se usa pra falar com deus;&lt;br /&gt;naquela tarde fria em que o romance começou de fato;&lt;br /&gt;está naquela parte da música que a gente vive esperando.&lt;br /&gt;À parte todos os detalhes capturados,&lt;br /&gt;quem vai me dizer que não somos todos a mesma coisa?&lt;br /&gt;Acredito em extensões de nós mesmos por simples lógica,&lt;br /&gt;porque não posso querer ser nada,&lt;br /&gt;mas também não posso ser alguma coisa&lt;br /&gt;sem que haja quem tenha sido antes de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Quero pensar que somos xerox. Cópias autenticadas,&lt;br /&gt;autênticas só na aparência...&lt;br /&gt;Porque, e me perdoem a presunção, às vezes&lt;br /&gt;o que enxergo é apenas um enorme lençol:&lt;br /&gt;sem cor definida, grande como o mundo, da altura do céu.&lt;br /&gt;"Todos iguais, mas uns mais iguais que os outros".&lt;br /&gt;Então, preciso que tu me pegue pra contar teu passado,&lt;br /&gt;pra saber de ti o que sai do lençol,&lt;br /&gt;pra tu deixar de ser cópia com trejeitos de autêntica,&lt;br /&gt;pra ser uma cópia nossa, extensão do que eu sei,&lt;br /&gt;do que eu sinto, do que a gente precisa.&lt;br /&gt;Entende?&lt;br /&gt;Feito isso, é então que tenho em mim todos os sonhos do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Retirado do blog http://reticenciando.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-4696551465400116644?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4696551465400116644/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=4696551465400116644' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4696551465400116644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/4696551465400116644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/o-lenol.html' title='O lençol'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6732549029372930281.post-2756731676820963620</id><published>2008-05-23T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T18:05:19.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somos só a falta</title><content type='html'>Vivemos nossos dias de ouro&lt;br /&gt;Sob o céu distante&lt;br /&gt;E não temos mais as nuvens&lt;br /&gt;Nem aqueles velhos amigos&lt;br /&gt;Nem amores&lt;br /&gt;E os sonhos nem são aqueles&lt;br /&gt;Nem são os mesmos&lt;br /&gt;Os anos passam, os dias passam&lt;br /&gt;Os caminhos mudam&lt;br /&gt;E os dias tristes escondem a lua&lt;br /&gt;Atrás das nuvens sombrias&lt;br /&gt;Tentamos abraçar o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Agarrar com força&lt;br /&gt;Não deixar que pessoas se vão&lt;br /&gt;Que momentos se vão&lt;br /&gt;Mas momentos são tudo que temos&lt;br /&gt;Instantes são a única eternidade que podemos ter&lt;br /&gt;Tudo se esvai&lt;br /&gt;E recomeça no vazio&lt;br /&gt;E no fim em essência&lt;br /&gt;O que resta somos nós mesmos&lt;br /&gt;Transmutados&lt;br /&gt;Em outro Eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Retirado do blog http://insidedark.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6732549029372930281-2756731676820963620?l=minhascitacoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2756731676820963620/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6732549029372930281&amp;postID=2756731676820963620' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2756731676820963620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6732549029372930281/posts/default/2756731676820963620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://minhascitacoes.blogspot.com/2008/05/somos-s-falta.html' title='Somos só a falta'/><author><name>Artur Gelumbauskas</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13355855997420625530</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jUcDSxZSeV0/ShBTeLyMk7I/AAAAAAAAAvk/_foq8JKc_O4/S220/Atual.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
