“ And I thought to myself how those fast little articles forget everything, everything, while we, old lovers, treasure every inch of their nymphancy Vladimir Nabokov
“ Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph that liv'st unseenWithin thy airy shellBy slow Meander's margent green,And in the violet-imbroider'd valeWhere the love-lorn nightingaleNightly to thee her sad song mourneth… John Milton
“ ...you are not what you seem - you're a Sylph - you leave and the air retains your image - you haunt me... John Geddes
“ Overheard on a Saltmarsh"Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?Give them me.No.Give them me. Give them me.No.Then I will howl all night in the reeds,Lie in th… Harold Monro
