Viewed from above,
what’s more beautiful than
the flashing river of light
on the wet road.
Viewed from above,
what’s more beautiful than
the flashing river of light
on the wet road.
“Where now are our ardent prayers? Where now are our best gifts — the pure tears of emotion which a guardian angel dries with a smile as he sheds upon us lovely dreams of ineffable childish joy? Can it be that life has left such heavy traces upon one’s heart that those tears and ecstasies are for ever vanished? Can it be that there remains to us only the recollection of them?”
Leo Tolstoy | Childhood