A surprising juxtaposition of the seventeenth century with classical times.
Half the Truth, the poem Grrison Keillor read on The Writer's Almanac yesterday, contains this lines
We make love without rushing and find ourselves
with someone we know well. Time to be
what we are getting ready to be next. This loving,
this relishing, our gladness, this being puts down
roots and comes back again year after year.
"Divorced from My Husband, and My Faith" an essay I read in Private Lives at The New York Times contains this sentence.
“It’s a new beginning,” the rabbi told me, kindly. “Don’t look back. Go forth, become the person you need to be.”