I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz ( Read more... )

You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
-Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Books I'm finally ( Read more... )