...with The End Of My Breath, Which

Life’s Greatest Gift Is The Freedom It Leaves You To Step Out Of It Whenever You Choose.

The Clouds Were Disappearing Rapidly, Leaving The Stars To Die. The Night Dried Up.

Words Have Finished Flirting. Now They Are Making Love.

My Wish Is That You May Be Loved To The Point Of Madness.

Let Us Not Mince Words: The Marvelous Is Always Beautiful, Anything Marvelous Is Beautiful, In Fact Only The Marvelous Is Beautiful.