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Quote by Stewart Stafford

“Winterland by Stewart Stafford Obelisk columns of a wintry afternoon, Bony fingers of nascent green in June, Pink snow clouds kissed by fading sun, Dark gold streets, hurry home as one. Shared body heat tenderises life so tough, Fusion shelter from gales so rough, Windows scream, a voyeur's peek inside, Lovers dismissed with wailing to chide. Darkness claims stragglers of day, Wrestles all an eye sees, stealing it away, Sleep whispers drowsy promises in our ears, We two, melding - strangers from our fears. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

Quote by Stewart Stafford

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Stewart Stafford

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“To lovers there. Most ladies the reason they are dumped and their relationship doesn't last is they made themselves to become a want than a need in a relationship.”

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“He whispered: ‘Is is this? Is this possible? I’ll put a marvel to you. That your cousin has always hoped. That from the very first moment we met, she hoped, far down in her mind, that we should be like this — of course, very far down. That she fought us on the surface, and yet she hoped. I can’t explain her any other way. Can you? Look how she kept me alive in you all the summer; how she gave you no peace; how month after month, she became more eccentric and unreliable. The sight of us haunted her — or she couldn’t have described us as she did to her friend. There are details — it burned. I read the books afterwards. She is not frozen, Lucy, she is not withered up all through. She tore us apart twice, but in the rectory that evening she was given one more chance to make us happy. We can never make friends with her or thank her. But I do believe that, far down in her heart, far below all speech and behaviour, she is glad.”

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“He whispered: ‘Is it this? Is this possible? I’ll put a marvel to you. That your cousin has always hoped. That from the very first moment we met, she hoped, far down in her mind, that we should be like this — of course, very far down. That she fought us on the surface, and yet she hoped. I can’t explain her any other way. Can you? Look how she kept me alive in you all the summer; how she gave you no peace; how month after month, she became more eccentric and unreliable. The sight of us haunted her — or she couldn’t have described us as she did to her friend. There are details — it burned. I read the books afterwards. She is not frozen, Lucy, she is not withered up all through. She tore us apart twice, but in the rectory that evening she was given one more chance to make us happy. We can never make friends with her or thank her. But I do believe that, far down in her heart, far below all speech and behaviour, she is glad.”

LoveRomancePassionEducationSocietyIndependenceSocial NormsSocial ClassSocial Convention
Book:A Room with a View
Create image