To have found you is a dear happiness; and to be Apollos son is beyond all my hopes; but there is something I want to say to you alone. Come; this is a private matter between us two – anything you tell me shall be as secret as the grave. – Euripides
A profusion of pink roses bending ragged in the rain speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring. – The Collected Later Poems of William Carlos Williams
