Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Such a delicate structure ...

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”
Anatole France

“Every Winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables”
Charles Kingsley

The Leaves grow old
“How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.”
John Burroughs