“Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds Along the pebbled shore of memory! Many old rotten-timber'd boats there be Upon thy vaporous bosom, magnified To goodly vessels; many a sail of pride, And golden keel'd, is left unlaunch'd and dry.” — John Keats Copy Share Image
“They both knew that jealousy could rise like a tide, erasing events that had been scratched into the shore of your memory.” — Jodi Picoult Copy Share Image
