All things keep on in everlasting motion, Out of the infinite come the particles, Speeding above, below, in endless dance.
When Death to either shall come - I pray it be first to me.
I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I'd see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.
When first we met we did not guess that Love would prove so hard a master.
So sweet love seemed that April morn, when first we kissed beside the thorn, so strangely sweet, it was not strange we thought that love could never change.
O soul, be patient: thou shalt find A little matter mend all this; Some strain of music to thy mind, Some praise for skill not spent amiss.
But I can tell - let truth be told - That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is nought to see, So delicate his motions be.
What batters you becomes your strength.
Literature is less involved in giving you answers and more dedicated to giving you insight.
It's just a matter of getting those legs back.
Everyone knows how we white people feel, the glorified Mammy figure who dedicates her whole life to a white family. Margaret Mitchell covered that. But no one ever asked Mammy how she felt about it.