Mountain Joy

“Snow in April is abominable," said Anne. "Like a slap in the face when you expected a kiss.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Ingleside

“Too many books. Too few centuries.”
― Jay Kristoff, Nevernight

“True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance.
'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence,
The sound must seem an echo to the sense.
Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar.
When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
The line too labours, and the words move slow;
Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprise,
And bid alternate passions fall and rise!
While, at each change, the son of Libyan Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow,
Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow:
Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found,
And the world's victor stood subdu'd by sound!
The pow'r of music all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now.”
― Alexander Pope, An Essay On Criticism

“No wolf falters before the bite, so strike.
No hawk wavers before the dive, so swing.
No sun pauses before the set, just strike.
No rain delays before the fall, just swing.”
― Shannon Hale, Princess Academy