Fiction for the Spoken Word
“Lady, how can it chance that this will longer last: a living image carved from quarries vast—than its own maker who dies so presently? See that time is breaking faith with me. Perhaps on both of us long life can I bestow, either in color or in stone. So that a thousand years after we die, we may be seen: how fair thou were, and I how full of woe.”
From “Art in the Service of Love” by Michelangelo, translated by Longfellow.