This is the thing about life and all its chaos. Most of us are so eager to get to the next moment or memory. We want the next adventure, or journey, or road to travel. We want our tomorrow so swiftly that so often we forget to be here now. ☆ Watering the Soul - Courtney Pepperne

She was Eliza for a few weeks When she was a baby — Eliza Lily. Soon it changed to Lil. Later she was Miss Steward in the baker’s shop And then ‘my love’, ‘my darling’, Mother. Widowed at thirty, she went back to work As Mrs Hand. Her daughter grew up, Married and gave birth. Now she was Nanna. ‘Everybody Calls me Nanna,’ she would say to visitors. And so they did - friends, tradesmen, the doctor. In the geriatric ward They used the patients’ Christian names. ‘Lil,’ we said, ‘or Nanna,’ But it wasn’t in her file And for those last bewildered weeks She was Eliza once again. ☆ The Orange - Wendy Cope

I believe every activity that can be done alone, God created for me. And even if He didn't, I could still handle it myself. ☆ Me and Thee, episode 2 - Peach

‘May you live in interesting times.’ - Chinese curse If you ask me ‘What’s new?’, I have nothing to say Except that the garden is growing. I had a slight cold but it’s better today. I’m content with the way things are going. Yes, he is the same as he usually is, Still eating and sleeping and snoring. I get on with my work. He gets on with his. I know this is all very boring. There was drama enough in my turbulent past: Tears and passion - I’ve used up a tankful. No news is good news, and long may it last. If nothing much happens, I’m thankful. A happier cabbage you never did see, My vegetable spirits are soaring. If you’re after excitement, steer well clear of me. I want to go on being boring. I don’t go to parties. Well, what are they for, If you don’t need to find a new lover? You drink and you listen and drink a bit more And you take the next day to recover. Someone to stay home with was all my desire And, now that I’ve found a safe mooring, I’ve just one ambition in life: I aspire To go on and on being boring. ☆ The Orange- Wendy Cope

• 1 Thy soul shall find itself alone 'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy: 2 Be silent in that solitude Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall then overshadow thee: be still. 3 For the night—tho' clear—shall frown— And the stars shall look not down, From their high thrones in the Heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given— But their red orbs, without beam, To thy weariness shall seem As a burning and a fever Which would cling to thee for ever: 4 Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish— Now are visions ne'er to vanish— From thy spirit shall they pass No more—like dew-drop from the grass: 5 The breeze—the breath of God—is still— And the mist upon the hill Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token— How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries!— ☆ Spirits of the Dead - Edgar Allan Poe

• IN spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide earth a spot The which I could not love the less— So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that tower'd around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, as upon all, And the mystic wind went by Murmuring in melody— Then—ah then I would awake To the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, But a tremulous delight— A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define— Nor Love—although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his lone imagining— Whose solitary soul could make An Eden of that dim lake. ☆ Edgar Allan Poe- The Lake

Fumiko knew that if she didn’t do something, Goro would pay and then leave. ‘Wait!’ ‘It’s fine, let’s leave it at that.’ ‘This isn’t what I came to say.’ ‘What?’ (Don’t go.) ‘Why didn’t you talk about it with me?’ (I don’t want you to go.) ‘Well, that’s . . .’ ‘I know how much your work means to you. I don’t necessarily mind if you go to America. I won’t stand in the way.’ (I thought we were going to be together for ever.) ‘But, at least . . .’ (Was it only me thinking that?) ‘I wanted you to discuss it with me. You know, it’s pretty despicable just deciding without talking about it . . .’ (I really, truly . . . ) ‘That’s just . . . well, you know.’ ( . . . loved you.) ‘It makes me feel forgotten . . .’ ‘. . .’ ‘What I wanted to say was . . .’ ‘. . .’ (Not that it’s going to change anything . . . ) ‘Well . . . I just wanted to say that.’ ☆ Before the Coffee Gets Cold - Toshikazu Kawaguchi

The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you. —NDT