| |||||||||||||||
|
Emily Dickinson
|
| If
you were coming in the fall I'd brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spurn As housewives do a fly. If
I could see you in a year If
only centuries delayed If
certain when this life was out But
now all ignorant of length, |
|
Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am sad and
weary. When I think all hope has gone. Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont,
|
|