I' Is Merely One Of The World's

Putting My Hand In Someone Else’s Has Always Been My Definition Of Happiness. Before I Fall Asleep, Often - In That Small Struggle Not To Lose Consciousness And Go Into The Greater World - Often, Before I Get Up The Courage To Go Into The Vastness Of Sleep, I Pretend That Someone Has My Hand In Theirs, And Then I Go, Go To That Enormous Absence Of Form That Is Sleep. And When Even After That I Don’t Have Courage, I Dream.

Holding Someone's Hand Was Always My Idea Of Joy.

Things Were Somehow So Good That They Were In Danger Of Becoming Very Bad Because What Is Fully Mature Is Very Close To Rotting

A Horse Is Freedom So Indominable That It Becomes Useless To Imprison It To Serve Man: It Lets Itself Be Domesticated, But With A Simple, Rebellious Toss Of The Head-shaking Its Mane Like An Abundance Of Free-flowing Hair-it Shows That Its Inner Nature Is Always Wild, Translucent And Free.

Love Is Now, Is Always. All That Is Missing Is The Coup De Grâce- Which Is Called Passion.