A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Don't believe anything you read on the net. Except this. Well, including this, I suppose.

Saying one's prayers isn't exactly the same thing as praying.

And for a long while they stood side by side without speaking, each seeing the other in every line of the landscape.

Written By Edith Wharton

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