"Could we with ink the ocean fill,
and were the skies of parchment made,
were every stalk on earth a quill,
and every man a scribe by trade.
To write the love of God above,
would drain the ocean dry,
nor could the scroll contain the whole,
though stretch from sky to sky."

Anonymous.

[The lines had been found pen­ciled on the wall of a pa­tient’s room in an in­sane asy­lum af­ter he had been car­ried to his grave, the gen­er­al opin­ion was that this in­mate had writ­ten the epic in mo­ments of san­ity.]

(via hellomynameisliv)

(via hellomynameisliv)