And of love. Above all of love.
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)
I read Word Games (among others) by Steals_Thyme on the train last night. I cried a little. It was great. I've been finishing some artwork lately and I really want to draw something like that, too. Moving and fluffy. Sort of... life-affirming, you know. And because only dead or old fandoms do it for me, it seems x) Just kidding, but characters... I've been considering my otps and wrote an entire essay on their dynamics in my head. It's all so... I don't know, sometimes I wonder at how simple I can be, lol.