Somewhere in the gray wood by the river is the huntsman, and in the brooming corn and in the castellated press of cities. His work lies all wheres and his hounds tire not. I have seen them in a dream, slaverous and wild and their eyes crazed with ravening for souls in this world. Fly them.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

Readninggirl30Astrid Terese Bjorland SkjeggerudRoger MartinsenPerSpelemannTone HIngeborg GAnniken RøilTonje-Elisabeth StørkersenKaren RamsvikHarald KAnne-Stine Ruud HusevågMarius Park PedersenJakob SæthreGrete AastorpReidun SvenslisiljehusmorTanteMamieBård StøreEivind  VaksvikVanja SolemdalKirsten LundMads Leonard HolvikMona AarebrotDemeterINA TORNESTerje MathisenWencheAnne Berit GrønbechNikkaLailaCathrine PedersenCarine OlsrødTor Arne DahlMarit MogstadBenteLars MæhlumEvaIngeborgTor-Arne JensenMats L.