The sleepy trees with their bare boughs basked in the breath of springtime and black flocks of birds flew over open country where vast pools lay like lakes. What joy, you felt, to disappear into the unfathomable depths of that marvellous sky!
— [Chekhov; opening lines of ‘In the Cart’, 1897]
If you were music
I would listen to you ceaselessly
And my low spirits would brighten up.
— Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems (via lacalaveracatrina)