|
|
|
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
ANNE BRADSTREET, Meditations Divine and Moral
- I’m laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone,
- Going home, where the new york city winters aren’t bleedin’ me.
The snow did not even whisper its way to earth, but seemed to salt the night with silence.
|
|
|
