My imagination is a monastery and I am its monk.
I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.
“Give me books, fruit, French wine and fine weather and a little music out of doors, played by someone I do not know. I admire lolling on a lawn by a water-lilied pond to eat white currants and see goldfish: and go to the fair in the evening if I’m good.
There is not hope for that –one is sure to get into some mess before evening.”
~ John Keats
*image taken from Pinterest