The sweetest thing in all my life has been
the longing- to reach the Mountains, to find
the place where all the beauty came from- my
country, the place where I ought to have been
born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all
the longing? The longing for home? For indeed
it now feels not like going, but like going back.
from: Till We Have Faces
by: C.S.Lewis
Ecole du Nord
by Nicole Hanusek
Frog Baby, a fountain by Edith B. Parsons
The Angel of the Night (1885) by Giulio Monteverde
The Horses of Helios
Veiled Vestal by Raffaelle Monti, Marble, circa 1848
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