Let us love nobly, and live, and add again years and years unto years, till we attain to write threescore: this is the second of our reign. – John Donne
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent. – John Donne
SIR, more than kisses, letters mingle souls,
For thus, friends absent speak. – John Donne
When I died last, and, Dear, I die as often as from thee I go though it be but an hour ago and lovers hours be full eternity. – John Donne
Time has lost all meaning in that nightmare alley of the Western world known as the American mind. We wallow in nostalgia but manage to get it all wrong. True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories… but American-style nostalgia is about as ephemeral as copyrighted d?j? vu. – Florence King