Kerry

“The Nineteenth Century And After

Though the great song return no more
There's keen delight in what we have:
The rattle of pebbles on the shore
Under the receding wave.”
― W.B. Yeats

“At best, love is simply the slipping of a hand in another's, of knowing you are where you belong at last, and of exchanging through the eyes that all-consuming regard which ignores everybody else on earth.”
― Laurie Lee, I Can't Stay Long

“Surely some revelation is at hand.”
― W.B. Yeats

“What hurts the soul
My soul adores”
― W.B. Yeats