WILLMORE: Nay, if we part so, let me die like a Bird upon a Bough, at the Sheriff's Charge. By Heaven, both the Indies shall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a Bargain - give me thy Hand - [Kisses her hand.] And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst.
Aphra BehnAbout author
- Author's profession: Playwright
- Nationality: english
- Born: July 10, 1640
- Died: April 16, 1689
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Rain. Soft rain, summer rain. Whispers from bushes, whispers from trees. Oh, how lovely and full of blessing. To dream and be satisfied. I was so long in the outer brightness, I am not used to this upheaval: Being at home in my own soul, Never to be led elsewhere. I want nothing, I long for nothing, I hum gently the sounds of childhood, And I reach home astounded. In the warm beauty of dreams. Heart, how torn you are, How blessed to plow down blindly, To think nothing, to know nothing, Only...
Herman Hesse