The Green Fig Tree

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think; – George Gordon, Lord Byron

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Posted by katiecolvin on June 15th, 2009 | Filed in Rantings | Comment now »

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Ponder This

She always fancied him expressing or betraying in some way his love for her. And here, the reality was that they sat ten feet apart, she at the window, crushing geranium leaves in her hand and smelling them, he twirling around on the piano stool … — Kate Chopin, The Awakening
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