Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone.

It was when I was happiest that I longed most...The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from.

Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back. All my life the godof the Mountain has been wooing me. Oh, look up once at least before the endand wish me joy. I am going to my lover. Do you not see now?

Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.

I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

It was a black and white day of frost, which crawled along the dark trees and outlined twig and branch. The air was misty, and distant objects assumed a mysterious importance. Slight sounds, too, suggested infinite activities to the mind.

("A Tribute Of Souls")