In the hollows of quiet places we may meet, the quiet places where there is neither moon nor sun, but only the light of amber and the pale gold that comes from the Hills of the Heart. There, listen at times: there you will call, and I will hear: there will I whisper, and that whisper will come to you as dew is gathered into the grass, at the rising of the moon.(From: 'The Silence of Amor' by Fiona Macleod)
