I wish I could remember the first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me; If bright or dim the season it might be; Summer or winter for aught I can say. So, unrecorded did it slip away, So… — Christina Rossetti Copy Share Image
I realized it was like looking into the sun—you shouldn't do it, because you'd turn your face away and be blind to everything else. — Jodi Picoult Copy Share Image
