“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.”

“Half the night I waste in sighs,
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful dose I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
For the meeting of the morrow,
The delight of happy laughter,
The delight of low replies.”

 Alfred Tennyson, Maud, and other poems