“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a knight riding down;
perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways;
perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”
~L.M. Montgomery~
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário