“Yet thou, eternal, lonely wanderer, Who, thoughtful, lookest on this earthly scene, Must surely understand What all our sighs and sufferings mean; What means this death, This colour from our cheeks that fades, This passing from the earth, and losing sight Of every dear, familiar scene. Well must thou comprehend The reason of these things; must see The good the morning and the evening bring; Thou knowest, thou, what love it is That brings sweet smiles unto the face of spring; The meaning of the Summer’s glow, And of the Winter’s frost and snow, And of the silent, endless flight of time. A thousand things to thee their secrets yield, That from this simple shepherd are concealed.”
“- You’ll find another.”
- God! Banish the thought. Why don’t you tell me that ‘if the girl had been worth having she’d have waited for you’?
- No, sir, the girl really worth having won’t wait for anybody.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald (via onenightstan)