And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. He jumped back, cursing. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire.
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This video was uploaded to meteo15jours.net on 16-05-2024 06:14:05
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