But, drawn to her at that moment, he felt a quiet like the voice of the rain flow over him. He knew well enough that for her it was in fact no waste of effort, but somehow the final determination that it was had the effect of distilling and purifying the woman's existence.

It's remarkable how we go on year after year, doing the same old things. We get tired and bored, and ask when they'll come for us

I suppose even a woman's hatred is a kind of love.

But, drawn to her at that moment, he felt a quiet like the voice of the rain flow over him. He knew well enough that for her it was in fact no waste of effort, but somehow the final determination that it was had the effect of distilling and purifying the woman's existence.

The labor into which a heart has poured its whole love--where will it have its say, to excite and inspire, and when?

A poetess who had died young of cancer had said in one of her poems that for her, on sleepless nights, 'the night offers toads and black dogs and corpses of the drowned.

People have separated from each other with walls of concrete that blocked the roads to connection and love. and Nature has been defeated in the name of development.