I just read a good book.

"Shed not for me your bitter tears

Nor give thy soul to vain regret

'Tis but a casket lying here,

The gem that fled it glitters yet."

That was the inscription on a tombstone in the book I just read, Rush Home Road. At this point in the book, an old lady, Addy, has returned to her hometown, Rusholme (clever name huh. Rush Home.) for the first time after running away as a teenager, and realises that the man she loved, and thought was dead at 17, actually lived to a ripe old age, and she could have met him had she mustered the courage to return home earlier.

I made it sound like a soppy story, but really, it isn't. I don't read soppy stuff.

It's almost as if the inscription on the tombstone was meant for her. Sweet.