In The House

If good things lasted forever, would we appreciate how precious they are.

In this book of poems that make grown men blub like sissies, Patrick Stewart picks one, and as a preface to it writes, 'I had never believed the New England fall could possibly be as beautiful as people claimed. And then one morning after breakfast i left my friends' house in South Salem, New York State, having arrived in the dark the previous evening. I walked two hundred yards along the lane and broke down helplessly weeping with the never-before-seen beauty and grandeur of it all.'

1 comment: