Parece aquele soneto do Shakespeare, "Love is not love if it alters when alteration finds"...
Bem, talvez não tenha a ver, mas trata do mesmo sentimento de preciosidade. O coração é enorme jóia de carne da caixa torácica, que repica quando o dono vem abrir, como cãozinho feliz preso no quintal das mesquinharias cotidianas.

Um beijo fofo para vc... Dê notícias.
Gi
Gisele | 05.01.09 - 7:09 pm | #

Hmmm, boníssima lembrança!

SHAKESPEARE SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

(Lindo, Gigi!)
edu | 05.02.09 - 1:53 pm | #