now goes under
I would have sworn, indeed I swore it:
The hills may shift, the waters my decline,
Winter may twist the stem from the twig that bore it,
But never your love from me, your hand from mine.
-Edna St. Vincent
April 2010
“One ought only to write when one leaves a piece of one’s flesh in the ink-pot each time one dips one’s pen.”
—Leo Tolstoy
“Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather, a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know.”
—John Keats.
Apple Blossom
The White Stripes
I’ll fall in love with you
I think I’ll marry you
Stolen (Instrumental)
Vitamin String Quartet
i like this enough to want it in my wedding
