“Perhaps, after all,
romance did not come into ones life
with pomp and blare like a knight riding down;
perhaps it crept to ones side like an old friend through quiet ways;
perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music;
perhaps…perhaps love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”
[l.m.montgomery]

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