Sunday, 24 July 2011


...There are some griefs so loud
They could bring down the sky,
And there are griefs so still
None knows how deep they lie,
Endured, never expended.
There are old griefs so proud
They never speak a word;
They never can be mended. --May Sarton, “Of Grief,” Selected Poems of May Sarton (New York: W.W. Norton and Co., 1978), p. 77.

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