“MUSIC I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate, All that was once so beautiful is dead. Your hands once touched this table and this silver,And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These things do not remember you, beloved: And yet your touch upon them will not pass. For it was in my heart you moved among them,And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes.And in my heart they will remember always: They knew you once, O beautiful and wise!” HeartHandsEyeBeautifulRememberWiseHeardMy HeartTablesBlessedMovedFingersGlassesBreadBrokeBelovedTouchedSilverWithout YouRemember YouRemembers YouDesolate Author:Conrad Aiken
“What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning, but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more.” KnowsHeartLittlesPainTurnsMorningGoneTreeCryArmsMy HeartQuietSummerBirdRainLonelySilentWinterForgottenLipsGlassesGhostTonightMidnightSighLadLonely Trees Author:Edna St. Vincent Millay
“I smiled,"Deoch, my heart is made of stronger stuff than glass. When she strikes she'll find it strong as iron-bound brass, or gold and adamant together mixed. Don't think I am unaware, some startled deer to stand transfixed by hunter's horns. It's she who should take care, for when she strikes, my heart will make a sound so beautiful and bright that it can't help but bring her back to me in winged light.” ThinkingShouldHeartMadeHelpingLightCareTogetherBeautifulStrongStuffSoundMy HeartGoldStrongerBoundsGlassesTake CareStrikesIronHuntersHornsDeerBrassAdamant Book:The Name of the Wind: The Kingkiller Chonicle: Source: The Name of the Wind: The Kingkiller Chonicle:
“My daughter squealed again and both Bubba and I winced. It’s not an attractive sound, that. It’s high-pitched and it enters your ear canals like hot glass. No matter how much I love my daughter, I will never love her squealing. Or maybe I will. Maybe I do. Driving down 93, I realized once and for all, that I love the things that chafe. The things that fill me with stress so total I can’t remember when a block of it didn’t rest on top of my heart. I love what, if broken, can’t be repaired. What, if lost can’t be replaced. I love my burdens.” IfsHeartI CanMatterRememberLostSoundBrokenMy HeartDaughterEarsStressHotGlassesBurdenI RealizedDrivingBlockAttractiveWhat IfMy DaughterReplacedRemember WhenCanalsBubbaLove My DaughterI Love My DaughterSquealing Author:Dennis Lehane