“

Dreams don’t smell or sound as strong as this.

Ally Condie, Matched

Mythological Introduction, Philip Larkin

A white girl lay on the grass

With her arms held out for love;

Her goldbrown hair fell down her face,

And her two lips move:

 

See, I am the whitest cloud that strays

Through a deep sky:

I am your senses’ crossroads,

Where the four seasons lie.

 

She rose up in the middle of the lawn

And spread her arms wide;

And the webbed earth where she had lain

Had eaten away her side.

 

“

We look up at the same stars, and see such different things.

George R. R. Martin, A Storm of Swords
“

He disappeared in the dead of winter:
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
And snow disfigured the public statues;
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.

W. H. Auden, ‘In Memory of W. B Yeats’