Quote of the day: Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more. (What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII), Edna St. ( Read more... )