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— William Wordsworth"Bright was the summer's noon when quickening steps Followed each other till a dreary moor Was crossed, a bare ridge clomb, upon whose top Standing alone, as from a rampart's edge, I overlooked the bed of Windermere, Like a vast river, stretching in the sun."
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In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way I have to go to bed by day.
— Robert Louis Stevenson
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I remember when I used to sit on hospital beds and hold people s hands, people used to be shocked because they d never seen this before. To me it was quite normal.
— Princess Diana
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