Feeling Strangely Poetic

I don't know if I've been listening to too much emo or what, but today everything seems incredibly profound. I came across this passage while flipping through some old books of mine and felt like sharing. It's an inscription in Heminway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, one of my favo books of all time. In light of Hunter S. Thompson's recent suicide, Hemingway too, like many creative geniuses, committed suicide at the height of his career. To me, this makes this passage that much more haunting:

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine own were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee

-John Donne

Little thoughts carrying great weight.

Gotta turn off the emo.