We Choose Our Joys And Sorrows Long

The "i" In Me, My Friend, Dwells In The House Of Silence, And Therein It Shall Remain For Ever More, Unperceived, Unapproachable.

Love Has No Other Desire But To Fulfill Itself.

Give And Take... For To The Bee A Flower Is A Fountain If Life And To The Flower A Bee Is A Messenger Of Love And To Both, Bee And Flower, The Giving And The Receiving Is A Need And An Ecstasy.

Pity It Is We Drowse Too Soon Pity It Is We Fall Asleep Ere Our Song Encompass The Height Ere Our Hand Inherit The Deep

How Can I Lose Faith In The Justice Of Life, When The Dreams Of Those Who Sleep Upon Feathers Are Not More Beautiful Than The Dreams Of Those Who Sleep Upon The Earth?