“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, “The String Quartet,” from A Haunted House, And Other Short Stories 1944