Siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia, tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre, la sangre de tus venas en mi boca, tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte. -From 'Del amor imprevisto', Federico Garcia Lorca
"Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish,
A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory,
With trees upon't that nod unto the world,And mock our eyes with air.."
You got rid of them. Yes, that's just like you. Getting rid of everything unpleasant instead of learning to put up with it. — Aldous Huxley, Brave New World