In this fool's paradise he drank delight

In this fool's paradise he drank delight

George Grabbe
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See Time has touched me gently in his race And left no odious furrows in my face.

George Grabbe
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All that is not prose passes for poetry.

George Grabbe
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In this fool's paradise he drank delight

George Grabbe
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When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.

Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
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