It was not the size of things that mattered but their perfection, it was not what one had that was important, but what one made.
Elizabeth GoudgeAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: english
- Born: April 24, 1900
- Died: April 1, 1984
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Love is like a tree: it shoots of itself; it strikes it's roots deeply into our whole being, and frequently continues to put forth green leaves over a heart in ruins. And there is this unaccountable circumstance attending it, that the blinder the passion the more tenacious it is. Never is it stronger than when it is most unreasonable.
Victor Hugo