Sonnet 29 Novels & Stories

I murmur to myself alone: "We have been through so many things and we chose the light." I go to see my son, I kiss him, he continues to sleep, he is magnificent. The sea answers, in a murmur of foam. Day breaks, slowly, over our promise. THE END

'Journeys end. Journeys end, wait a minute' He unfolded a paper and started reading, Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? ‘It’s not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies not plenty; Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. (Note: it's written by Shakespeare)

When the dawn creeps through the windows, they both wake up. Juliet goes to move for her clothes, but Hank pulls her back saying: "Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc’d the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale." Juliet looks back at him and cups his face before reciting: "It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

" Nine times nine lives hath lived the cat. And ninety night are nine by ten Nine ounces from nine pounds of fat Nine times hath pecked the Dorking hen So nine time nine I'll call to thee Ninth of those nine,come thou to me " Si jie wait patiently for something,a sign but the words showed no sign of answers,tears slid down as she slump to the ground, 'she'd fail, she'd failed to save her friend'She thought crying uncontrollably. Blue lights stream into the room at first fading in colour but circling her before becoming strong like smoke,Si lift her head up,her lips moving itself.

where, alack, Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid? Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back? Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid? O, none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine bright. It was Shakespeare’s Sonnet 65. I smiled, and I could feel my heart warm because of this. Who knew he was so romantic and thoughtful? Without wasting any time, I grabbed my jacket and purse and headed out.

Her peaceful bubble of life, pinned down and leaking with every new minute she spent in her old house. All of it stemmed from that single face that hovered at the edges of her nerves like a plague. Her hand that moves to adjust her pillow touches a sleek texture and the young girl pauses. The resin rose is staring up at her like it always did when she lays her gaze on it. Faintly, she remembers clutching at it before she went to sleep, but it only adds more irritation to Alina's already crumbling mood. Without a word, she sets it down with a clank, and then heads out the room with a tug of a new bubble gum pink shirt.

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills,

do not hasten to ripen your thoughts! Enjoy the morning, enjoy the spring; Your hours are flowers entwined one to the other; Do not strip them faster than time. Let the years come! Fate dedicates you, Like us, to regrets, to false friendship, To those hopeless evils that pride disavows, To those pleasures that cause pity. Laugh though! of the spell ignore the power Laugh! do not sadden your gracious brow, Your azure eye, mirror of peace and innocence, Which reveals your soul and reflects the heavens!

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those who thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me John Donne She smiles to herself as she dresses up for breakfast, remembering the events of the past night.

Stella chatted casually. "Elizabeth Barrett Browning? 'The Soul's Expression'?" "That's a good one, but my favorite is 'How Do I Love Thee'. It goes like this: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace." Stella recited a few lines of the poem. "I have never heard of that." Jasper put the washed tomatoes onto the plate.