Love, though in a sense it may be admitted to be stronger than death, is by no means so universal and so sure. In fact, love is rare--the love of men, of things, of ideas, the love of perfected skill. For love is the enemy of haste; it takes count of passing days, of men who pass way, of fine art matured slowly in the course of years and doomed in a short time to pass away too, and be no more. Love and regret go and in hand in this world of changes swifter than the shifting of the clouds reflected in the mirror of the sea.
Joseph Conrad
May 15, 2009
Old love, new love Every love but true love
Recent Comments