A Literary Garden
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Welcome, dear reader! Feel free to click on the labels to find things in genres that would interest you, or search for a book, poem or quote in the search bar. Enjoy!
Monday, 9 March 2026
Sunday, 8 March 2026
Quote
"The rotation of the universe and the motion of the planets could neither begin nor continue without music... for everything is ordered... according to the laws of harmony." - Attributed to Plutarch -
Saturday, 7 March 2026
Quote
"Nothing exists without music; for the universe itself is said to have been framed by a kind of harmony of sounds, and the heaven itself revolves under the tones of that harmony." - Isidore of Seville -
Friday, 6 March 2026
Quote
“We do not enjoy a story fully at the first reading. Not till the curiosity, the sheer narrative lust, has been given its sop and laid asleep, are we at leisure to savour the real beauties. Till then, it is like wasting great wine on a ravenous natural thirst which merely wants cold wetness.” – C.S. Lewis –
Thursday, 5 March 2026
Our Lady of Guadalupe

Title: Our Lady of Guadalupe
Author: Carmen T. Bernier-Grand
Illustrator: Tonya Engel
Rating: ★★★★★
Age Category: Children's Books
A lovely retelling of Juan Diego and what happened at Guadalupe almost 500 years ago.
Wednesday, 4 March 2026
Quote
"Most people use music as a couch; they want to be pillowed on it, relaxed and consoled for the stress of daily living. But serious music was never meant to be soporific." - Aaron Copland -
Tuesday, 3 March 2026
Sonnet 40 by William Shakespeare
Sonnet 40
by William Shakespeare
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet, love knows, it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
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