<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><title>Mais uma vez sentimento</title><link>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/</link><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MaisUmaVezSentimento" /><description></description><language>en</language><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</managingEditor><lastBuildDate>Sun, 29 Jan 2012 01:19:00 PST</lastBuildDate><generator>Blogger http://www.blogger.com</generator><openSearch:totalResults xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">1586</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/">25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><feedburner:info uri="maisumavezsentimento" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><itunes:owner><itunes:email>noreply@blogger.com</itunes:email></itunes:owner><itunes:explicit>no</itunes:explicit><itunes:subtitle></itunes:subtitle><feedburner:emailServiceId>MaisUmaVezSentimento</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><item><title>"Também não sei o que me prende tanto a você. Deve ser justamente essa impossibilidade de sermos, finalmente, nós." [Caio F.]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/fodIjXtaw90/tambem-nao-sei-o-que-me-prende-tanto.html</link><category>Caio Fernando Abreu</category><category>Lya Luft</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sun, 29 Jan 2012 01:19:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-4936503250782803635</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlljCiB0Goc/Twh2pd8jpQI/AAAAAAAAFWQ/PbMlCgkXvC4/s1600/111117_GG_130-700x466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlljCiB0Goc/Twh2pd8jpQI/AAAAAAAAFWQ/PbMlCgkXvC4/s1600/111117_GG_130-700x466.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Que um relacionamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; não seja prisão; que não seja enfermaria nem muleta, mas que &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;seja vida, crescimento(turbulências eventuais incluídas)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Que seja cumplicidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, porque a vida já é difícil sem afetos. O entendimento recíproco é um oásis no isolamento desta nossa vida pressionada por tempo, dinheiro, regras, mil solicitações de família, trabalho, grupo social, realidade do mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Que seja presença e companhia, o relacionamento bom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;: pois a solidão é um campo demasiado vasto para ser atravessado a sós."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Lya Luft]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-4936503250782803635?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u95jvx77l4ABdbx7KlCEZkphJAA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u95jvx77l4ABdbx7KlCEZkphJAA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u95jvx77l4ABdbx7KlCEZkphJAA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/u95jvx77l4ABdbx7KlCEZkphJAA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/fodIjXtaw90" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-29T06:19:00.479-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wlljCiB0Goc/Twh2pd8jpQI/AAAAAAAAFWQ/PbMlCgkXvC4/s72-c/111117_GG_130-700x466.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/tambem-nao-sei-o-que-me-prende-tanto.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Para hoje</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/qJkZA0rQ_TQ/para-hoje.html</link><category>Karla Tabalipa</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jan 2012 05:44:30 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-1826081720689431262</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWu3y0S5zI/TyLP9V-HU9I/AAAAAAAAFc0/f3Gx8djIc3s/s1600/tumblr_lg6hrfQSoU1qcm1feo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWu3y0S5zI/TyLP9V-HU9I/AAAAAAAAFc0/f3Gx8djIc3s/s1600/tumblr_lg6hrfQSoU1qcm1feo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Que nos vejamos livres daquelas histórias que só nos fizeram mal, daquelas pessoas que entraram na nossa vida pra nos magoar, pra nos fazer desacreditar um pouco na tal felicidade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Que sejamos livres de sentimentos ruins e pessoas pequenas, mas que ocupam um espaço imenso no nosso coração, deixando tudo mais feio lá dentro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Que a gente consiga desocupar esses espaços e deixá-los livres pra quem quiser entrar, trazendo sorrisos e amor de verdade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Que mudemos com a mudança de ano. Que deixemos pra trás, junto com ele, os sentimentos ruins, que fazem com que sejamos menos felizes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E, no lugar de pular algumas ondas, consigamos pular as mágoas, o rancor e a má vibração que o passado nos deixou de herança.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Vamos guardar os momentos lindos em um cantinho do coração e deixar um espaço imenso pras coisas lindas que o novo ano nos reserva?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Karla Tabalipa]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-1826081720689431262?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUL2rH_QfM968XmwjqT_OPRw83Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUL2rH_QfM968XmwjqT_OPRw83Y/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUL2rH_QfM968XmwjqT_OPRw83Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUL2rH_QfM968XmwjqT_OPRw83Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/qJkZA0rQ_TQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-28T10:44:30.773-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SxWu3y0S5zI/TyLP9V-HU9I/AAAAAAAAFc0/f3Gx8djIc3s/s72-c/tumblr_lg6hrfQSoU1qcm1feo1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/para-hoje.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"E quem disse que eu quero sair ilesa? Eu vim ao mundo para experimentar todos os sabores e sentir na pele todas as essências que a vida me permitir. Eu vim pra sorrir, pra abraçar e me encontrar no meio disso tudo. Eu vim para ser feliz, meu Deus do céu. " [Bibiana Benites]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/ZMzopXpctWw/e-quem-disse-que-eu-quero-sair-ilesa-eu.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Citações</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Fri, 27 Jan 2012 08:06:19 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-986198946494673583</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgwsJzdth24/TyLLZ8yHL6I/AAAAAAAAFck/8a1S67IwuEk/s1600/tumblr_lv89x5OQNY1qgsug7o1_1280_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgwsJzdth24/TyLLZ8yHL6I/AAAAAAAAFck/8a1S67IwuEk/s1600/tumblr_lv89x5OQNY1qgsug7o1_1280_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;‎&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Confesso não saber quantas vezes terei que me reinventar, nem quantos longos caminhos ainda preciso percorrer, nem qual toque, nem qual a maneira certa e nem quais serão as palavras mais coerentes para usar. Realmente não sei. Porém, tudo isso perde a importância, quando a certeza que carrego na mochila, é saber que meu rumo,sem desvios, sempre será o seu coração."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;[Erick Tozzo]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-986198946494673583?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nK9mN-LWStYMLatzkbWPBQtQjNo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nK9mN-LWStYMLatzkbWPBQtQjNo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nK9mN-LWStYMLatzkbWPBQtQjNo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nK9mN-LWStYMLatzkbWPBQtQjNo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/ZMzopXpctWw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T13:06:19.106-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgwsJzdth24/TyLLZ8yHL6I/AAAAAAAAFck/8a1S67IwuEk/s72-c/tumblr_lv89x5OQNY1qgsug7o1_1280_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-quem-disse-que-eu-quero-sair-ilesa-eu.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Vamo acordar! Vamo acordar! Tem gente furando a fila e sendo feliz no nosso lugar. [Sergio Vaz]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/iV8Nww-D5Kk/vamo-acordar-vamo-acordar-tem-gente.html</link><category>Martha Medeiros</category><category>Caio Fernando Abreu</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Fri, 27 Jan 2012 02:24:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-1321305994320993814</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Jj4nfjytm4/TwhK2bNDuuI/AAAAAAAAFVo/Za9O0YYlzrI/s1600/1294080094028_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Jj4nfjytm4/TwhK2bNDuuI/AAAAAAAAFVo/Za9O0YYlzrI/s1600/1294080094028_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Você é adulto mesmo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Então pare de reclamar, pare de buscar o impossível, pare de exigir&amp;nbsp;perfeição de si mesmo, pare de querer encontrar lógica pra tudo, pare&amp;nbsp;de contabilizar prós e contras, pare de julgar os outros, pare&amp;nbsp;de tentar manter sua vida sob rígido controle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Simplesmente, divirta-se!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Martha Medeiros in&amp;nbsp;'Feliz por nada']&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-1321305994320993814?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hARpljqkElOuVzhUxKdOwVMhhho/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hARpljqkElOuVzhUxKdOwVMhhho/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hARpljqkElOuVzhUxKdOwVMhhho/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hARpljqkElOuVzhUxKdOwVMhhho/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/iV8Nww-D5Kk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T07:24:00.251-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Jj4nfjytm4/TwhK2bNDuuI/AAAAAAAAFVo/Za9O0YYlzrI/s72-c/1294080094028_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/vamo-acordar-vamo-acordar-tem-gente.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Gosto de gente espontânea e colorida. Daquelas que distribuem sorrisos de graça." [Cris Carvalho]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/RvfUbdPbfAU/gosto-de-gente-espontanea-e-colorida.html</link><category>Sex and the City</category><category>Séries da Tv</category><category>Cris Carvalho</category><category>Imagens de famosos</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Thu, 26 Jan 2012 12:24:03 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-3223276127342562080</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k3IDsmiSzhw/TyGqXTswB5I/AAAAAAAAFcM/dHfcacfMaXo/s1600/ep94_4women_onstreet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k3IDsmiSzhw/TyGqXTswB5I/AAAAAAAAFcM/dHfcacfMaXo/s1600/ep94_4women_onstreet.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Penso que, se uma pessoa me faz rir, já é do bem e vira amiga. Porque gente luzeira, desse jeito, tá&amp;nbsp;difícil&amp;nbsp;de achar hoje em dia. Então, me agarro a ela como se fosse minha salvação. Salvação de um dia morno e cinza.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas tô nem aí pra vocês, ó! Gente de cara amarrada, que só dá coice porque não aprendeu a sorrir. Que não aprendeu a ser feliz. Que não aprendeu a ver a beleza e a delícia que a vida é.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E é pra essa pessoa que eu digo: Se quiser andar com a gente, pode vir.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[...]a gente também costuma estender a mão pra quem joga pedra. A gente devolve sorriso pra quem mostra a língua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Porque a alegria de viver, meu bem, não se aprende e não se compra numa botique da esquina.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Cris Carvalho]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Foto: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Cynthia Nixon,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Sarah Jessica Parker,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Kristin Davis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;e&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Kim Catrall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;in Sex and the City&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/5075232031648539944-3223276127342562080?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FJse_GBPpwxxG4tnVK2G_jXGnB0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FJse_GBPpwxxG4tnVK2G_jXGnB0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FJse_GBPpwxxG4tnVK2G_jXGnB0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FJse_GBPpwxxG4tnVK2G_jXGnB0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/RvfUbdPbfAU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T17:24:03.903-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k3IDsmiSzhw/TyGqXTswB5I/AAAAAAAAFcM/dHfcacfMaXo/s72-c/ep94_4women_onstreet.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2002/02/gosto-de-gente-espontanea-e-colorida.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Sabem o que é uma chuva de verão?</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/FhRJ-63UTQ4/sabem-o-que-e-uma-chuva-de-verao.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Thu, 26 Jan 2012 01:53:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-4079028814607520810</guid><description>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hedIK5dSMo/TwTgLNMZP-I/AAAAAAAAFVg/8pDoPBm_wyg/s1600/320240_240915979294212_187687457950398_739921_1103555018_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hedIK5dSMo/TwTgLNMZP-I/AAAAAAAAFVg/8pDoPBm_wyg/s1600/320240_240915979294212_187687457950398_739921_1103555018_n_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;...Primeiro, a beleza pura rompendo o céu de verão, esse temor respeitoso que toma conta do coração, sentir-se tão irrisório no próprio centro do sublime, tão frágil e tão repleto da majestade das coisas, siderado, agarrado, radiante pela munificência do mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(…)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Depois, como as lágrimas, às vezes, quando são redondas, fortes e solidárias, deixam atrás de si uma longa praia lavada de discórdia, a chuva, no verão, varrendo a poeira imóvel é para a alma das criaturas como uma respiração sem fim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Assim, certas chuvas de verão se implantam em nós como um novo coração que bate em uníssono com o outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Muriel Barbery in A elegância do ouriço]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #665f33; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 19.5pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #665f33; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 19.5pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-4079028814607520810?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VX0vETba5tMaxvpshy9C2T6aIWg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VX0vETba5tMaxvpshy9C2T6aIWg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VX0vETba5tMaxvpshy9C2T6aIWg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VX0vETba5tMaxvpshy9C2T6aIWg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/FhRJ-63UTQ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T06:53:00.064-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2hedIK5dSMo/TwTgLNMZP-I/AAAAAAAAFVg/8pDoPBm_wyg/s72-c/320240_240915979294212_187687457950398_739921_1103555018_n_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/sabem-o-que-e-uma-chuva-de-verao.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Se a gente quer resultado, nós temos que lutar, não adianta, nada vai cair do céu. A fé nasce é do chão, acho que a gente inverteu as coisas não é?" [Pe. Fábio de Melo]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/vzMpZMNQkAQ/se-gente-quer-resultado-nos-temos-que.html</link><category>Pe. Fábio de Melo</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 18:06:14 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-9002508190088119451</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZDU9MiB3qU/TyC0rb8oMwI/AAAAAAAAFcE/Wvab3iSR5eA/s1600/1325180353860_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZDU9MiB3qU/TyC0rb8oMwI/AAAAAAAAFcE/Wvab3iSR5eA/s1600/1325180353860_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;"A vida é assim. O aprendizado é na prática. E a regra é simples: se não posso mudar os fatos, então deixo que os fatos me modifiquem. Quero o crescimento possível, a travessia que me é proposta. Porque ficar parado e lamentando a vida que não quero, é um jeito estranho de abandonar a vida que tanto desejo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Pe. Fábio de Melo]&lt;/b&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/5075232031648539944-9002508190088119451?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_EOFEliIuRgZMzFIDzL6EhH3x_0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_EOFEliIuRgZMzFIDzL6EhH3x_0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_EOFEliIuRgZMzFIDzL6EhH3x_0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_EOFEliIuRgZMzFIDzL6EhH3x_0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/vzMpZMNQkAQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T23:06:14.036-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fZDU9MiB3qU/TyC0rb8oMwI/AAAAAAAAFcE/Wvab3iSR5eA/s72-c/1325180353860_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/se-gente-quer-resultado-nos-temos-que.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>E eu que esperei o mundo girar pra esbarrar em você outra vez, acabei esbarrando em alguém muito melhor..." [Karla Tabalipa]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/3r9UUZU92SM/e-eu-que-esperei-o-mundo-girar-pra.html</link><category>Karla Tabalipa</category><category>Filmes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 09:32:52 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-2531478165771913688</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M5VRKBRfcLY/TyA8ZNiNg_I/AAAAAAAAFa8/BXMXnXzLpvw/s1600/5197050475_5d90daee8a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M5VRKBRfcLY/TyA8ZNiNg_I/AAAAAAAAFa8/BXMXnXzLpvw/s1600/5197050475_5d90daee8a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;‎&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Pare de idealizar seu amor em vez de encontra-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;O amor não é sempre como um raio, as vezes é só uma escolha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;Talvez o amor verdadeiro seja uma decisão,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;decisão de correr um risco com alguém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;Dar-se, sem se preocupar se irão&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;dar algo em troca ou magoar você ou se é a pessoa certa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;Talvez o amor não seja algo que aconteça, talvez seja uma escolha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Filme: Amores e Outros Desastres]&lt;/b&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/5075232031648539944-2531478165771913688?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rltkxMwBbgfIMCNsfx_k-p6kjGE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rltkxMwBbgfIMCNsfx_k-p6kjGE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rltkxMwBbgfIMCNsfx_k-p6kjGE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rltkxMwBbgfIMCNsfx_k-p6kjGE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/3r9UUZU92SM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T14:32:52.694-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M5VRKBRfcLY/TyA8ZNiNg_I/AAAAAAAAFa8/BXMXnXzLpvw/s72-c/5197050475_5d90daee8a.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/e-eu-que-esperei-o-mundo-girar-pra.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Os anjos sentam bem no ombro esquerdo  das pessoas pra indicar a direção.  E sopram gracejos ao ouvido  que é pra gente nunca desaprender o riso." [Cris Carvalho]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/PAMlUY-lyhg/os-anjos-sentam-bem-no-ombro-esquerdo.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Gossip Girl</category><category>Cris Carvalho</category><category>Imagens de famosos</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 01:10:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-1357272303738442342</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_9iNgahhjyw/Tvt6HlOgxUI/AAAAAAAAFTc/_VBsfmWpbYI/s1600/tumblr_lwh71pqajq1qmomweo1_500_large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_9iNgahhjyw/Tvt6HlOgxUI/AAAAAAAAFTc/_VBsfmWpbYI/s1600/tumblr_lwh71pqajq1qmomweo1_500_large.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Sorrir é quando a gente faz poesia com a cara, é quando confessamos as alegrias da vida sem precisar de palavras, quando chegamos mais perto do coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. E, nestes dias, tenho aprendido que a falência do sorriso antecipa a da vida, que sorrisos sinceros não se soltam ao vento, que&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; sorrir é uma atitude&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, e se for da gente mesmo, é ainda mais, &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;é uma virtude. E, vamos combinar, nada ilumina mais a vida da gente!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Solange Maia]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Foto: Blake Lively&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/5075232031648539944-1357272303738442342?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YM_lSz1gZ7G9Tu-SFbn3FtCPZBE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YM_lSz1gZ7G9Tu-SFbn3FtCPZBE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YM_lSz1gZ7G9Tu-SFbn3FtCPZBE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YM_lSz1gZ7G9Tu-SFbn3FtCPZBE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/PAMlUY-lyhg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T06:10:00.332-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_9iNgahhjyw/Tvt6HlOgxUI/AAAAAAAAFTc/_VBsfmWpbYI/s72-c/tumblr_lwh71pqajq1qmomweo1_500_large.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/os-anjos-sentam-bem-no-ombro-esquerdo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Bondade de Deus</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/3-gyQ2BeTHw/bondade-de-deus.html</link><category>Cris Carvalho</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Tue, 24 Jan 2012 08:05:32 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-5082962313933637009</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzddrlKG1Zk/Tx7V9yWK8DI/AAAAAAAAFa0/UpOcdyBe6hA/s1600/tumblr_lolxsdBsmG1qmw7wmo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzddrlKG1Zk/Tx7V9yWK8DI/AAAAAAAAFa0/UpOcdyBe6hA/s1600/tumblr_lolxsdBsmG1qmw7wmo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Deus tem sido muito bom comigo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Vezenquando, ele me sorri,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;brinca de acender céu e me fazer ouvir estrelas."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Cris Carvalho]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-5082962313933637009?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kr8k5tuOcCyuA-AtE6pr3TVFVwA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kr8k5tuOcCyuA-AtE6pr3TVFVwA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kr8k5tuOcCyuA-AtE6pr3TVFVwA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kr8k5tuOcCyuA-AtE6pr3TVFVwA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/3-gyQ2BeTHw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-24T13:05:32.845-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzddrlKG1Zk/Tx7V9yWK8DI/AAAAAAAAFa0/UpOcdyBe6hA/s72-c/tumblr_lolxsdBsmG1qmw7wmo1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/bondade-de-deus.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Não é ele</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/zvSzAUeCV6w/nao-e-ele.html</link><category>Martha Medeiros</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Mon, 23 Jan 2012 15:17:46 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-1513346791236479019</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QOiyYC4Gm08/Tx3qdh2C9TI/AAAAAAAAFas/5OlDMZlvTz0/s1600/tumblr_lp0v4yZAaJ1qalxmqo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QOiyYC4Gm08/Tx3qdh2C9TI/AAAAAAAAFas/5OlDMZlvTz0/s1600/tumblr_lp0v4yZAaJ1qalxmqo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Coitado do amor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;é sempre acusado de provocar dor, quando deveria ser reverenciado simplesmente por ter acontecido em nossa vida, mesmo que sua passagem tenha sido breve. E se não foi, se permaneceu em nossa vida, aí é o luxo supremo. Qualquer amor merece nossa total indulgência, porque quem costuma estragar tudo, caríssimos, não é ele, somos nós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Martha Medeiros in &amp;nbsp;Doidas e Santas - 'Absolvendo o amor pertencente a obra']&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-1513346791236479019?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eXxhoWnSE0S0p5GlkqG845ZW6h0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eXxhoWnSE0S0p5GlkqG845ZW6h0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eXxhoWnSE0S0p5GlkqG845ZW6h0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eXxhoWnSE0S0p5GlkqG845ZW6h0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/zvSzAUeCV6w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T20:17:46.201-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QOiyYC4Gm08/Tx3qdh2C9TI/AAAAAAAAFas/5OlDMZlvTz0/s72-c/tumblr_lp0v4yZAaJ1qalxmqo1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/nao-e-ele.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Meu coração é minha razão. Essa é a lógica que inventei pra mim."  [Fernanda Mello]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/3VhDt9DdyUQ/meu-coracao-e-minha-razao-essa-e-logica.html</link><category>Fernanda Mello</category><category>Imagens de famosos</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:20:35 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-4619672413303908656</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6wzaELrUWmI/Tx3A0fC7dLI/AAAAAAAAFaE/gprZPGtTvm4/s1600/pic3_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6wzaELrUWmI/Tx3A0fC7dLI/AAAAAAAAFaE/gprZPGtTvm4/s1600/pic3_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Sou uma eterna apaixonada por palavras e pessoas inteiras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Sigo a vida conforme o roteiro, sou quase normal por fora, pra ninguém desconfiar. Mas &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;por dentro eu delir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;o e questiono. Não quero uma vida pequena, um amor pequeno, um alegria que caiba dentro da bolsa. Eu quero mais que isso. Quero o que não vejo. Quero o que não entendo. Quero muito e quero sem fim. Não cresci pra viver mais ou menos, &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;nasci com dois pares de asas, vou aonde eu me levar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. Por isso, não me venha com superfícies, nada raso me satisfaz.&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; Eu quero é o mergulho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Entrar de roupa e tudo no infinito que é a vida. E rezar – se ainda acreditar – pra sair ainda bem melhor do outro lado de lá."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Fernanda Mello]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Foto: Gwyneth Paltrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-4619672413303908656?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uNmTbFujUj7raIFdF-nN-KwdypU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uNmTbFujUj7raIFdF-nN-KwdypU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uNmTbFujUj7raIFdF-nN-KwdypU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/uNmTbFujUj7raIFdF-nN-KwdypU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/3VhDt9DdyUQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T17:20:35.223-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6wzaELrUWmI/Tx3A0fC7dLI/AAAAAAAAFaE/gprZPGtTvm4/s72-c/pic3_thumb%255B3%255D.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/meu-coracao-e-minha-razao-essa-e-logica.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Eu que controlo o meu guidom  [ Los Hermanos]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/z1h8mu1lv3o/eu-que-controlo-o-meu-guidom-los.html</link><category>Filmes</category><category>Priscila Rôde</category><category>Imagens de famosos</category><category>Fernando Anitelli</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Mon, 23 Jan 2012 02:49:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-5867412039759220826</guid><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w31bR28oq4k/TvvJFhI4cGI/AAAAAAAAFUg/LVB2W-kSmjI/s1600/article-1305177-0AC67481000005DC-453_634x417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w31bR28oq4k/TvvJFhI4cGI/AAAAAAAAFUg/LVB2W-kSmjI/s1600/article-1305177-0AC67481000005DC-453_634x417.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Escolhi este caminho e não pretendo sair. Não sei. Nem quero. Há caminhos e caminhos. Alguns se perdem de nós muito perto da chegada. Outros se prendem a nós pelo amor, pela liberdade ou pelo estômago repleto de borboletas. Eu sei que passa. [...] Fico porque em tudo há cura e delicadeza."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Priscila Rôde]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ead1dc;"&gt;Foto: Julia Roberts in 'Comer rezar e amar'.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-5867412039759220826?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcA6L_bjOkcdmgxgVKpTl6CqPmk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcA6L_bjOkcdmgxgVKpTl6CqPmk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcA6L_bjOkcdmgxgVKpTl6CqPmk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcA6L_bjOkcdmgxgVKpTl6CqPmk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/z1h8mu1lv3o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T07:49:00.392-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w31bR28oq4k/TvvJFhI4cGI/AAAAAAAAFUg/LVB2W-kSmjI/s72-c/article-1305177-0AC67481000005DC-453_634x417.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/eu-que-controlo-o-meu-guidom-los.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Deixa a pirraça, o ranço, as mágoas de lado, uai,  Pra trás, os pretéritos imperfeitos.[Gabito Nunes]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/R-G_8RXjrgY/deixa-pirraca-o-ranco-as-magoas-de-lado.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Gabito Nunes</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sun, 22 Jan 2012 02:18:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-4431823553903461368</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5eJxblJSg_c/TvvH_25S7NI/AAAAAAAAFUU/ej7eK0luG38/s1600/1292343065314_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5eJxblJSg_c/TvvH_25S7NI/AAAAAAAAFUU/ej7eK0luG38/s1600/1292343065314_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Você vai rir, sem perceber, felicidade é só questão de ser.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Quando chover, deixar molhar&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;pra receber o sol quando voltar."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Marcelo Jeneci]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-4431823553903461368?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qDUSUpvUVP1_xUuwBJiH5TlwUNw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qDUSUpvUVP1_xUuwBJiH5TlwUNw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qDUSUpvUVP1_xUuwBJiH5TlwUNw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qDUSUpvUVP1_xUuwBJiH5TlwUNw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/R-G_8RXjrgY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-22T07:18:00.065-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5eJxblJSg_c/TvvH_25S7NI/AAAAAAAAFUU/ej7eK0luG38/s72-c/1292343065314_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/deixa-pirraca-o-ranco-as-magoas-de-lado.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Quem insiste em julgar os outros sempre tem alguma coisa pra esconder."  [Renato Russo]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/trEkcqN5gBM/quem-insiste-em-julgar-os-outros-sempre.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Fernando Sabino</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sun, 22 Jan 2012 02:09:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-487915631614163419</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JO7ejrodto/TvvDpXRKK2I/AAAAAAAAFUI/EnLc40Vzznk/s1600/katharinasponner6_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JO7ejrodto/TvvDpXRKK2I/AAAAAAAAFUI/EnLc40Vzznk/s1600/katharinasponner6_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Se nós mesmos, que nos conhecemos mais do que ninguém, somos de tal maneira precários no julgamento de cada um, é porque não sabemos nada, não somos donos de verdade nenhuma, temos de buscá-la fora de nós."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Fernando Sabino in “0 Encontro Marcado”] &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-487915631614163419?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5z4BYXNOfrNwyw-cVc1-Gcphw0M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5z4BYXNOfrNwyw-cVc1-Gcphw0M/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5z4BYXNOfrNwyw-cVc1-Gcphw0M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5z4BYXNOfrNwyw-cVc1-Gcphw0M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/trEkcqN5gBM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-22T07:09:00.219-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JO7ejrodto/TvvDpXRKK2I/AAAAAAAAFUI/EnLc40Vzznk/s72-c/katharinasponner6_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/quem-insiste-em-julgar-os-outros-sempre.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Eu te preciso. Perto, longe, tanto faz." [Caio F.]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/0X5BVRntzfE/eu-te-preciso-perto-longe-tanto-faz.html</link><category>Caio Fernando Abreu</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jan 2012 02:24:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-6970914531167220699</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mL8c8Ckr0CE/TvvCLdQz2bI/AAAAAAAAFT8/Wco-ziX6H1g/s1600/1287668975596_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mL8c8Ckr0CE/TvvCLdQz2bI/AAAAAAAAFT8/Wco-ziX6H1g/s1600/1287668975596_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"A tua solidão é tão vasta quanto a minha. Confessa. Tuas noites são povoadas por saudades. E memórias. Tu também olhas pela janela nas altas madrugadas desejando um amor. Em segredo. Tu também te perdes, caminhos errados, pessoas&amp;nbsp;estranhas – o santo não bate, lembra?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ninguém desconfia das tuas angústias. Nem mesmo eu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E então, com meia dúzia de palavras bonitas, mas difíceis, tu te desnudas. Sem querer?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não te imagino intencional. És um aviãozinho de papel a vagar pelos ventos sem rumo. Engana-te se achas que é possível ser terrivelmente feliz nestes esconderijos. Abre-te para os encantos. É lá que moram os olhares encontrados, a pele arrepiada,o pé que encosta no outro sem aviso. As mãos dadas. Tu me encantas. Longe, perto, sem saber..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Paula Pfeifer]&lt;/b&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/5075232031648539944-6970914531167220699?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_XGc8frXMY9y82TbwQZytX63TIA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_XGc8frXMY9y82TbwQZytX63TIA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_XGc8frXMY9y82TbwQZytX63TIA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_XGc8frXMY9y82TbwQZytX63TIA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/0X5BVRntzfE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-21T07:24:00.447-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mL8c8Ckr0CE/TvvCLdQz2bI/AAAAAAAAFT8/Wco-ziX6H1g/s72-c/1287668975596_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/eu-te-preciso-perto-longe-tanto-faz.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Quer me conhecer?</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/GcmYvk3O5ow/quer-me-conhecer.html</link><category>Fernanda Mello</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Fri, 20 Jan 2012 02:23:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-1597485175276618234</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cRLCuFdD8DI/Tvt9KqDvhsI/AAAAAAAAFTw/8d-VNKJA_E8/s1600/93478c89b3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cRLCuFdD8DI/Tvt9KqDvhsI/AAAAAAAAFTw/8d-VNKJA_E8/s1600/93478c89b3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me encontre naquele romance antigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, segundo parágrafo, mostrando que a solidão não deve se atravessar a sós. Talvez eu possa – e isso é quase certo – me mudar pros tons daquela bela música e por lá ficar: “feita de luz mas que de vento”… Ah, me desculpem os Jungs, Freuds e Lacans. Mas Chico Buarque me entenderia! Alguns artistas – e nisso incluo poetas, músicos e demais sonhadores – parecem conhecer a fundo a alma humana. Quando falam de si, mostram um pouco também de nós. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Quem nunca pensou, ao menos por um segundo: essa canção foi feita pra mim? Eu já me apropriei de centenas de músicas (com o devido crédito ao autor, é claro), que dizia serem “minhas”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;Naquele momento, elas – e só elas – pareciam entender o que eu sentia. Letra por letra. Rima por rima. Em cada nota, um espanto. &lt;/b&gt;E uma sensação de pura comunhão com o mundo: é, eu não estou sozinha. A arte também foi feita pra unir. Pra protestar. Para seduzir. Por isso, passo a vida escrevendo. Lendo. Garimpando frases. Buscando o verso certo. A estrofe perfeita. &lt;b&gt;Ou um conhecimento maior sobre mim mesma. &lt;/b&gt;Se estou conseguindo? Não sei. A arte nem sempre é bondosa. Um dia nos pega no colo e, no outro, nos faz enxergar o que ainda é difícil de ver. Mas tudo bem. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Enquanto houver um poema pra nos consolar e uma boa canção pra nos comover, “a gente vai levando."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Fernanda Mello]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-1597485175276618234?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WNHmtJ33DkRM-t89pGd7s0ARhs0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WNHmtJ33DkRM-t89pGd7s0ARhs0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WNHmtJ33DkRM-t89pGd7s0ARhs0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WNHmtJ33DkRM-t89pGd7s0ARhs0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/GcmYvk3O5ow" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-20T07:23:00.289-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cRLCuFdD8DI/Tvt9KqDvhsI/AAAAAAAAFTw/8d-VNKJA_E8/s72-c/93478c89b3.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/quer-me-conhecer.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"...guarde um sonho bom pra mim"  [Rodrigo Amarante]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/1YV9o6-oRUE/guarde-um-sonho-bom-pra-mim-rodrigo.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Fernanda Gaona</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Thu, 19 Jan 2012 03:31:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-9196453678013317132</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eOw4sOXtE0Y/Tvn2-GoKI0I/AAAAAAAAFS4/6Mngmp3b2xw/s1600/40e6f9f984OTBGFGT_16871_bfa0b8b103_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eOw4sOXtE0Y/Tvn2-GoKI0I/AAAAAAAAFS4/6Mngmp3b2xw/s1600/40e6f9f984OTBGFGT_16871_bfa0b8b103_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"...lembre-se, que é justamente essa coragem de andar por um lugar desconhecido e adquirir habilidade para se curar de cada tombo, que fará você começar a enxergar aos poucos frestas de luz. E pode não parecer, mas o som de cada porta se fechando um dia irá soar como música aos seus ouvidos. A canção de quem aprendeu a ler as esperas. De quem aceitou a partitura da fé e aprendeu a tocar as notas no momento adequado, na afinação de Deus."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Fernanda Gaona]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-9196453678013317132?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XuR_nMRuBTtRoNgoKJqUgPLvtoY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XuR_nMRuBTtRoNgoKJqUgPLvtoY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XuR_nMRuBTtRoNgoKJqUgPLvtoY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XuR_nMRuBTtRoNgoKJqUgPLvtoY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/1YV9o6-oRUE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T08:31:00.624-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eOw4sOXtE0Y/Tvn2-GoKI0I/AAAAAAAAFS4/6Mngmp3b2xw/s72-c/40e6f9f984OTBGFGT_16871_bfa0b8b103_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/guarde-um-sonho-bom-pra-mim-rodrigo.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Dê o seu melhor ou dê o fora, mas dê.  A vida gosta mesmo é de quem se posiciona!" [F. G.]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/yQStIMLp2DQ/de-o-seu-melhor-ou-de-o-fora-mas-de.html</link><category>Virginia Woolf</category><category>Citações</category><category>Fernanda Gaona</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Wed, 18 Jan 2012 02:19:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-4285185527537441450</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-diLnf5DO9N8/TvnytRe2RCI/AAAAAAAAFSg/FsZcZMWE4t8/s1600/tumblr_lvw0o70uJp1r38lhgo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-diLnf5DO9N8/TvnytRe2RCI/AAAAAAAAFSg/FsZcZMWE4t8/s1600/tumblr_lvw0o70uJp1r38lhgo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Sinto mil possibilidades nascerem dentro de mim. Sou sucessivamente travessa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;, alegre, lânguida e melancólica. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tenho raízes mas flutuo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; (...) Nasci para ser estilhaçada. Nasci para que se riam de mim. Estou destinada a andar à deriva, entre os homens e mulheres de faces contraídas e línguas mentirosas, como um pedaço de cortiça num mar revolto."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Virginia Woolf]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-4285185527537441450?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bc63njyGWnatCeaqPBFYrW338XA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bc63njyGWnatCeaqPBFYrW338XA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bc63njyGWnatCeaqPBFYrW338XA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bc63njyGWnatCeaqPBFYrW338XA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/yQStIMLp2DQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T07:19:00.281-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-diLnf5DO9N8/TvnytRe2RCI/AAAAAAAAFSg/FsZcZMWE4t8/s72-c/tumblr_lvw0o70uJp1r38lhgo1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/de-o-seu-melhor-ou-de-o-fora-mas-de.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"...resgatar minha inocência e aceitar com ternura minha vida de insônias, ardências e alguns (des)encontros." [M.Q]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/wSgEJsBO4Y4/resgatar-minha-inocencia-e-aceitar-com.html</link><category>Marla de Queiroz</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Tue, 17 Jan 2012 01:13:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-3210433277942367786</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GAQH3j5OpLE/TvnwxgSoI-I/AAAAAAAAFSU/5gVf89q-0As/s1600/4ff83671_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GAQH3j5OpLE/TvnwxgSoI-I/AAAAAAAAFSU/5gVf89q-0As/s1600/4ff83671_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Estou com sede de mudanças, mas não quero arrastar os móveis, nem desentortar os quadros. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Quero desabitar meus hábitos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;; entrar na poeira estagnada das coisas e assoprá-la no vento como quando se liberta um passarinho depois de curar sua asa machucada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Para estar feliz eu só preciso deixar que meus dedos dancem a coreografia do poema novo, vestir as palavras de cetim pra seduzir o moço e aumentar as exclamações do seu/meu desejo."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Marla de Queiroz]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-3210433277942367786?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CjrLhIDtiuLmb4dz-sWYq3D_4Qg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CjrLhIDtiuLmb4dz-sWYq3D_4Qg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CjrLhIDtiuLmb4dz-sWYq3D_4Qg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CjrLhIDtiuLmb4dz-sWYq3D_4Qg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/wSgEJsBO4Y4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T06:13:00.902-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GAQH3j5OpLE/TvnwxgSoI-I/AAAAAAAAFSU/5gVf89q-0As/s72-c/4ff83671_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/resgatar-minha-inocencia-e-aceitar-com.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"De todo, se multipliquei a minha dor, também multipliquei a minha esperança".  [Paulo Mendes Campos]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/dJ_HWlGIKNk/de-todo-se-multipliquei-minha-dor.html</link><category>Caio Fernando Abreu</category><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Citações</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2012 01:09:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-2214846728695975972</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k8zm_TDNvsU/TvSoUedlo8I/AAAAAAAAFRY/o7Bi2Pv_z3k/s1600/1294174859568_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k8zm_TDNvsU/TvSoUedlo8I/AAAAAAAAFRY/o7Bi2Pv_z3k/s1600/1294174859568_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;—&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Bom, feliz talvez ainda não. Mas tenho assim… aquela coisa… como era mesmo o nome? &lt;b&gt;Aquela coisa antiga, que fazia a gente esperar que tudo desse certo, sabe qual?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;— Esperança? Não me diga que você está com esperança!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;— Estou, estou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Caio Fernando Abreu]&lt;/b&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/5075232031648539944-2214846728695975972?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZL0LiAxSK2O0AUKiJFaVG3nvghw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZL0LiAxSK2O0AUKiJFaVG3nvghw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZL0LiAxSK2O0AUKiJFaVG3nvghw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZL0LiAxSK2O0AUKiJFaVG3nvghw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/dJ_HWlGIKNk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T06:09:00.237-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k8zm_TDNvsU/TvSoUedlo8I/AAAAAAAAFRY/o7Bi2Pv_z3k/s72-c/1294174859568_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/de-todo-se-multipliquei-minha-dor.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>A mulher realmente bonita</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/ZTfyaa2pRX8/mulher-realmente-bonita.html</link><category>Nelson Rodrigues</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sun, 15 Jan 2012 01:18:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-551651945440130112</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VY8e_OPaTpQ/TvSwrJBH-0I/AAAAAAAAFSI/HBEetqJFpsY/s1600/tumblr_l4g88n4dey1qaxlg0o1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VY8e_OPaTpQ/TvSwrJBH-0I/AAAAAAAAFSI/HBEetqJFpsY/s1600/tumblr_l4g88n4dey1qaxlg0o1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Na "mulher interessante", a beleza é secundária, irrelevante e, mesmo, indesejável. A beleza interessa nos primeiros quinze dias; e morre, em seguida, num insuportável tédio visual. Era preciso que alguém fosse, de mulher em mulher, anunciando: - "Ser bonita não interessa. Seja interessante!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Nelson Rodrigues]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-551651945440130112?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2D-2F_An5Vv_j1fgRrrUp4GY1TE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2D-2F_An5Vv_j1fgRrrUp4GY1TE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2D-2F_An5Vv_j1fgRrrUp4GY1TE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2D-2F_An5Vv_j1fgRrrUp4GY1TE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/ZTfyaa2pRX8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T06:18:00.219-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VY8e_OPaTpQ/TvSwrJBH-0I/AAAAAAAAFSI/HBEetqJFpsY/s72-c/tumblr_l4g88n4dey1qaxlg0o1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/mulher-realmente-bonita.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"O que vale na vida não é o ponto de partida e sim a caminhada. Caminhando e semeando, no fim terás o que colher." [Cora Coralina]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/VqBfTqUEmVw/o-que-vale-na-vida-nao-e-o-ponto-de.html</link><category>Renata fagundes</category><category>Cora Coralina</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jan 2012 06:09:17 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-857376901156919604</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KAud0O-S-so/TxGMeM-eKZI/AAAAAAAAFYQ/8IgKSrY9Wbk/s1600/tumblr_lgr207D2vI1qf2fepo1_500_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KAud0O-S-so/TxGMeM-eKZI/AAAAAAAAFYQ/8IgKSrY9Wbk/s1600/tumblr_lgr207D2vI1qf2fepo1_500_large.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"A vida muda nossa rota, alonga a estrada, embaralha os dias. Alguns se confundem no percurso, outros desistem da jornada. Aprendi a semear flores por onde passo, para não perder o caminho de volta, para identificar a chegada de casa."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Renata Fagundes]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-857376901156919604?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-ToaGbkL7I90fiMw4xiaeusUlbs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-ToaGbkL7I90fiMw4xiaeusUlbs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-ToaGbkL7I90fiMw4xiaeusUlbs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-ToaGbkL7I90fiMw4xiaeusUlbs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/VqBfTqUEmVw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-14T11:09:17.237-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KAud0O-S-so/TxGMeM-eKZI/AAAAAAAAFYQ/8IgKSrY9Wbk/s72-c/tumblr_lgr207D2vI1qf2fepo1_500_large.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/o-que-vale-na-vida-nao-e-o-ponto-de.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>"Se tens um coração de ferro, bom proveito. O meu, fizeram-no de carne, e sangra todo dia.”  [José Saramago]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/9-yWngOo3eg/se-tens-um-coracao-de-ferro-bom.html</link><category>Denise Portes</category><category>José Saramago</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Fri, 13 Jan 2012 02:20:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-6351060525565571268</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p2RMD3gzDNk/TvSr_wZ_E6I/AAAAAAAAFRw/s17rOiRMYMQ/s1600/Ophelia_6_by_Queen_Kitty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p2RMD3gzDNk/TvSr_wZ_E6I/AAAAAAAAFRw/s17rOiRMYMQ/s400/Ophelia_6_by_Queen_Kitty.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Foi amando que construí amores eternos, foi amando que modifiquei meus conceitos e preconceitos, foi amando que colhi histórias pra contar em versos as poesias do meu coração."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Denise Portes]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-6351060525565571268?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kfvY7-ya1JZSVw08xCxhztORgwQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kfvY7-ya1JZSVw08xCxhztORgwQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kfvY7-ya1JZSVw08xCxhztORgwQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kfvY7-ya1JZSVw08xCxhztORgwQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/9-yWngOo3eg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T07:20:00.213-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p2RMD3gzDNk/TvSr_wZ_E6I/AAAAAAAAFRw/s17rOiRMYMQ/s72-c/Ophelia_6_by_Queen_Kitty.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/se-tens-um-coracao-de-ferro-bom.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><title>Houve tanta coisa, tantas perdas irreparáveis que não é qualquer coisinha que dói mais não.'   [Zidna Nunes Ziris]</title><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~3/BsaQluEhhzQ/houve-tanta-coisa-tantas-perdas.html</link><category>Autores Diversos</category><category>Priscila Rôde</category><author>noreply@blogger.com (Rebecca (Flor))</author><pubDate>Fri, 13 Jan 2012 02:08:00 PST</pubDate><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075232031648539944.post-2676368210219649092</guid><description>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PxGHX8evd20/TvSuSolKhGI/AAAAAAAAFR8/TzZsryH4gZA/s1600/1295035605105_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PxGHX8evd20/TvSuSolKhGI/AAAAAAAAFR8/TzZsryH4gZA/s1600/1295035605105_f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Eu não estou triste.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Só estou fazendo silêncios.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Só estou me recolhendo.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Só estou amanhecendo, por dentro."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;[Priscila Rôde]&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5075232031648539944-2676368210219649092?l=maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XMgVuig-APMD4lp-9AMKbODRNGI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XMgVuig-APMD4lp-9AMKbODRNGI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XMgVuig-APMD4lp-9AMKbODRNGI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XMgVuig-APMD4lp-9AMKbODRNGI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MaisUmaVezSentimento/~4/BsaQluEhhzQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T07:08:00.762-03:00</app:edited><media:thumbnail url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PxGHX8evd20/TvSuSolKhGI/AAAAAAAAFR8/TzZsryH4gZA/s72-c/1295035605105_f.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://maisumavezsentimento.blogspot.com/2012/01/houve-tanta-coisa-tantas-perdas.html</feedburner:origLink></item><media:rating>nonadult</media:rating></channel></rss>

