The melancholy river bears us on. When the moon comes through the trailing willow boughs, I see your face, I hear your voice and the bird singing as we pass the osier bed. What are you whispering? Sorrow, sorrow. Joy, joy. Woven together, like reeds in moonlight.

Virginia Woolf, A Haunted House, And Other Short Stories (via violentwavesofemotion)

Sighing melancholy sighs at reading this brief quote with many of my favorite things: a river, a weeping willow, joy and moonlight. Oh, sorrow. Yes. Woven amidst the rest, I know you too, but joy ultimately wins. ~Janean

January 31, 2013