“Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined future, of being carried away in streams of promise by a love or a passion so strong that one felt altered forever and convinced that even the smallest particle of the surrounding world was charged with purpose of impossible grandeur; ah, yes, and one would look up into the trees and be thrilled by the wind- loosened river of pale, gold foliage cascading down and by the high, melodious singing of countless birds; those moments, so many and so long ago, still come back, but briefly, like fireflies in the perfumed heat of summer night.” WorldLooksLongStillsMomentsPurposeNightPassionStrongGivenFeltHoursForeverImpossibleTreeWindPromiseSummerSingingBirdRiversGoldDown AndConvincedHeatStreamsLook UpPaleLong AgoSmallestParticlesGrandeurAlteredCarried AwayFireflySummer NightsFoliageBasking Book:Collected Poems Source: Collected Poems
“The best way to killing a rose is to force it open when it is still only the promise of a bud.” WayStillsForcePromiseRoseKillingBest WayBud Author:Jose Saramago
“In those days, Christmas still retained a certain aura of magic and mystery. The powdery light of winter, the hopeful expressions of people who lived among shadows and silence, lent that setting a slight air of promise in which at least children and those who had learned the art of forgetting could still believe.” PeopleBelieveChildrenArtStillsLightCertainForgetSilenceMagicAirMysteryExpressionPromiseShadowWinterSettingSettingsHopefulAuras Author:Carlos Ruiz Zafon