Percy Bysshe Shelley (August 04, 1792 - July 08, 1822)
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Percy Bysshe Shelley in Wikipedia
Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.
We look before and after, And pine for what is not; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds
Being rich is having money; being wealthy is having time
Everything really came together here. I was focusing on really what I had to do and taking control of the points the way I did for the whole match and really not paying really much of an attention to how she felt.
Writing only leads to more writing.