ysabelle

“Part of a moon was falling down the west,
Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.
Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw
And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand
Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,
Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,
As if she played unheard the tenderness
That wrought on him beside her in the night.”
― Robert Frost, The Poetry of Robert Frost

“that your spirit grow in curiosity, that your life be richer than it is, that you bow to the earth as you feel how it actually is, that we—so clever, and ambitious, and selfish, and unrestrained— are only one design of the moving, the vivacious many.”
― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

“And yet
to wine, to opium even, I prefer
the elixir of your lips on which love flaunts itself;
and in the wasteland of desire
your eyes afford the wells to slake my thirst.”
― charles baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

“But never had their youthful beauty seemed so pure and high, as when its glow was chastened by adversity.”
― Nathaniel Hawthorne, Young Goodman Brown and Other Short Stories