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“ ‘ The secret path he eager chose, where Layla’s distant mansion rose; he kissed the door. A thousand wings increased his pace, whence, his fond devotions paid, a thousand thorns his course delayed. No rest he found by day or night—Layla, forever, in his sight.’ ”
Or when the moon was overhead Came two young lovers lately wed; “I am half sick of shadows,” said The Lady of Shalott. —Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “The Lady of Shalott”
“But at least we can always pick up a book and read it anew. Stories offer a thousand fresh starts.”
All within is dark as night: In the windows is no light; And no murmur at the door, So frequent on its hinge before. Close the door; the shutters close; Or through the windows we shall see The nakedness and vacancy Of the dark deserted house. Come away: no more of mirth Is here or merry-making sound. The house was builded of the earth, And shall fall again to ground. —Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “The Deserted House”
Quite right. Gustave Eiffel is a genius, and I feel certain he shall one day be appreciated. Sometimes you have to stand back and let people do what they are good at, even if it seems like madness at the time.”
Close, side by side, from morn till night, Kissing and dalliance their delight, Whilst thou from human solace flying With unrequited love art dying. —Nizami Ganjavi, Layla and Majnun
