The Beatles

"I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps

I don't know why nobody told you
How to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you

I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps."

-Excerpt from "Still My Guitar Gently Weeps," by the Beatles

Jodi Picoult

"Marge lets his silence stand; an offering on a pedestal. I know this is because some people come here to talk, while others come to just listen. But the lack of sound pounds like a heartbeat. It's deafening. That's the paradox of loss: How can something that's gone weigh us down so much?"

-Excerpt from The Storyteller, by Jodi Picoult

Christina Rossetti

"A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens, a saint, an angel—every canvas means the same one meaning, neither more nor less. He feeds upon her face by day and night, and she with true kind eyes looks back on him, fair as the moon and joyful as the light: not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim; not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; not as she is, but as she fills his dream."

- Excerpt from "In an Artist's Studio," by Christina Rossetti