My soul was like a summer evening, after a heavy fall of rain, when the drops are yet glistening on the trees in the last rays of the downgoing sun, and the wind of the twilight has begun to blow.
—George MacDonald, Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women,1858 (via funeral-wreaths)
Having seen the fall, consider the rise. What harm ever came to the setting Sun or Moon?
—#Rumi (via scent-of-me1980)
I speak of love that comes to mind:
The moon is faithful, although blind;
She moves in thought she cannot speak.
Perfect care has made her bleak.
I never dreamed the sea so deep,
The earth so dark; so long my sleep,
I have become another child.
I wake to see the world go wild.
—Allen Ginsberg, An Eastern Ballad (via sullenmoons)