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Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, When Soft Voices Die

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Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory -
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts when thou are gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh,

When I am sad and weary. When I think all hope has gone.
When I walk along High Holborn, I think of you with nothing on
.

Adrian Mitchell

Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont

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