Wafa

“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
― William C. Faulkner

“The sketch of the summer-house which she had given me on the morning of our farewell, and which had never been separated from me since, was the birthday of our first hope.”
― Wilkie Collins, The Woman in White

“فلتهربي ما شئتِ عن عيني
فإنك في الضلوع تسافرين”
― فاروق جويدة, لو أننا لم نفترق

“If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,
Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content: --
The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,
And they that from the zenith dart their beams,
(Visible though they be to half the earth,
Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)
Are yet of no diviner origin,
No purer essence, than the one that burns,
Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge
Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem
Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,
Among the branches of the leafless trees.
All are the undying offspring of one Sire:
Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,
Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.”
― William Wordsworth