|I held a jewel
in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said, "Twill keep"
I woke - and chide my honest fingers,
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