“When in these fresh mornings I go into my garden before anyone is awake, I go for the time being into perfect happiness. In this hour divinely fresh and still, the fair face of every flower salutes me with a silent joy. . . . All the cares, perplexities, and griefs of existence, all the burdens of life slip from my shoulders and leave me with the heart of a little child that asks nothing beyond the present moment of innocent bliss.” HeartChildrenLittlesStillsMomentsCareFacesJoyAsksHoursPerfectGriefExistenceMorningFlowerFairsGardenSilentBurdenShouldersInnocentBlissAwakePresent MomentSlipsLeaving MeSalutePerplexityPerfect HappinessBurdens Of Life Author:Celia Thaxter
“They, who passed away long ago, still exist in us, as predisposition, as burden upon our fate, as murmuring blood, and as gesture that rises up from the depths of time.” LongStillsFateBloodDepthBurdenImmortalityGesturesLong AgoPassed AwayMurmuring Book:Letters to a Young Poet Source: Letters to a Young Poet