|
|
|
|||||
|
||||||
|
|
| |||||||||||||||
|
Omar Khayyam
|
| For
some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from His vintage rolling Time hath pressed, Have drunk the Cup a round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest. |
|
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,
|
|
