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— Haruki Murakami"The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts."
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There was no gleam, no shadow, for the heavens, too, were one still, pale cloud; no sound or motion in anything but the dark river that flowed and moaned like an unresting sorrow.
— George Eliot
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I keep some portion of my early gleam; Brokenly bright, like moonbeams on a river, It lights my life, a far illusive dream, Moves as I move, and leads me on forever.
— John Townsend Trowbridge
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