Because my heart is full with so much love for the world I am living in, because I am thankful for the life that has been given to me, and because I know I will go on despite everything:

William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

A. and I once had one of the silliest fights over Egyptian cotton bed spreads. We sat at the opposite sides of the room, sulking. I read a book, stealing glances. He had his back to me, scribbling furiously. At almost thirty years old, he is such a boy, and I fought the urge to smile as I watch him curl his lip while thinking and being grumpy. After an hour, I gave up; I never get angry for very long, and I think he knows this. But we were having so much fun being in a fight, so I wouldn’t lose now, would I?

I went outside to look at clouds and to curb my urge to laugh out loud. When I came back I found this poem stabbed to a pillow (yes, he can be dramatic, he’s half-French), and I couldn’t help it, I laughed until I was crying:

I Gave My Heart To A Woman
William Ernest Henley

I gave my heart to a woman –
I gave it to her, branch and root.
She bruised, she wrung, she tortured,
She cast it under foot.

Under her feet she cast it,
She trampled it where it fell,
She broke it all to pieces,
And each was a clot of hell.

There in the rain and the sunshine
They lay and smouldered long;
And each, when again she viewed them,
Had turned to a living song.

What else is a woman to do?