The Wall

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“What a dear old wall that is that runs along by the river there! I never pass it without feeling better for the sight of it. Such a mellow, bright, sweet old wall; what a charming picture it would make, with the lichen creeping here, and the moss growing there, a shy young vine peeping over the top at this spot, to see what is going on upon the busy river, and the sober old ivy clustering a little farther down! There are fifty shades and tints and hues in every ten yards of that old wall. . . . It looks so peaceful and so quiet, and it is such a dear old place to ramble round in the early morning before many people are about.” Jerome K. Jerome, “Three Men In A Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)” Ch. 6 (1889)

“I Cried”

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Why say, “I cried” when you can say, “but when the strain of dulcet symphony express’d for me their soft compassion, more than could the words, “Virgin! why so consumest him?” then, the ice Congeal’d about my bosom, turn’d itself To spirit and water; and with anguish forth Gush’d, through the lips and eyelids, from the heart.”

— Dante (1265 - 1321), Canto 30 of “Purgatory, The Divine Comedy”. Spend 15 minutes in the Classics!

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