You Are My Sun, My Moon, And

Equality Is What Does Not Exist Among Mortals.

Since Feelings Come First, Who Cares About The Syntax Of Things?

I Shall Imagine Life Is Not Worth Dying,if (and When)roses Complain Their Beauties Are In Vain But Though Mankind Persuades Itself That Every Weed's A Rose,roses(you Feel Certain)will Only Smile

The Voice Of Your Eyes Is Deeper Than All Roses

Nobody, Not Even The Rain, Has Such Small Hands