O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. William Blake, The Sick Rose hand colored print c.
well, now if little by little you stop loving me, i shall stop loving you little by little. if suddenly you forget me do not look for me for i shall already have forgotten you. - pablo neruda 'if you forget me'
One of my favorite quotes. I love the sea, the ocean, bodies of salt-water in general. You do not know peace until you stand on a deserted beach, toes in the sand, feeling as super small as you actually are in this world.