There is something always melancholy in the Idea of leaving a place for the last time. It is like burying a Friend.


New Letters of Abigail Adams: 1788-1801 (1947)


There is something always melancholy in the Idea of leaving a place for the last time. It is like burying a Friend.

There is something always melancholy in the Idea of leaving a place for the last time. It is like burying a Friend.

There is something always melancholy in the Idea of leaving a place for the last time. It is like burying a Friend.

There is something always melancholy in the Idea of leaving a place for the last time. It is like burying a Friend.