A chord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting, and time’s busy fingers are not practiced in

A chord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in every parting, and time’s busy fingers are not practiced in re-splicing broken ties. Meet again you may; will it be in the same way? With the same sympathies? With the same sentiments? Will the souls, hurrying on in diverse paths, unite once more, as if the interval had been a dream? Rarely, rarely! ~Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton
sadsayings-5085

HTML Embed Code
BB Code for Forums
Image URL

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *