Writing on Windows
So, our goal tonight is to get all the shades written on. We always have a quote on each one - everywhere we've lived.
So, this apt, we've got a bathroom window (Women, once the barriers of modesty were down, had no sense of decency. C.S. Forester) two living room windows (a Dylan Thomas quote, and the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem 'If Thou Must Love Me' in the kitchen, we'll have the recipe for salted caramels, and an amusing definition of cantaloupes.
As for my room, I'm undecided. There are two bits I really like, one being a bit from a Yeats poem 'How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true, but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the changing sorrows of your face' or
To a Young Lady
by William Cowper
Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng:
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course;
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes;
Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.
Still thinking.
On a sadder note, I took the bull by the horns and asked D out for coffee. After a lengthy time of him not writing back, he said that he was really busy, maybe another weekend. I'm not sure what to do. I'm inclined to give up, but people are telling me to wait, that 'not this weekend' is not 'never.' This is true. I guess we'll just have to see. grrr
So, this apt, we've got a bathroom window (Women, once the barriers of modesty were down, had no sense of decency. C.S. Forester) two living room windows (a Dylan Thomas quote, and the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem 'If Thou Must Love Me' in the kitchen, we'll have the recipe for salted caramels, and an amusing definition of cantaloupes.
As for my room, I'm undecided. There are two bits I really like, one being a bit from a Yeats poem 'How many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true, but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the changing sorrows of your face' or
To a Young Lady
by William Cowper
Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid
Silent and chaste she steals along,
Far from the world's gay busy throng:
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destined course;
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes;
Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass,
And Heaven reflected in her face.
Still thinking.
On a sadder note, I took the bull by the horns and asked D out for coffee. After a lengthy time of him not writing back, he said that he was really busy, maybe another weekend. I'm not sure what to do. I'm inclined to give up, but people are telling me to wait, that 'not this weekend' is not 'never.' This is true. I guess we'll just have to see. grrr