Disgrace Is The Synonym Of Discovery.

It Was One Of Those Somber Evenings When The Sighing Of The Wind Resembles The Moans Of A Dying Man; A Storm Was Brewing, And Between The Splashes Of Rain On The Windows There Was The Silence Of Death. All Nature Suffers In Such Moments; The Trees Writhe In Pain And Twist Their Heads; The Birds Of The Fields Cower Under The Bushes; The Streets Of Cities Are Deserted.

I Don't Know Where My Road Is Going, But I Know That I Walk Better When I Hold Your Hand.

Know That There Is Often Hidden In Us A Dormant Poet, Always Young And Alive.

Romanticism Is The Abuse Of Adjectives

Take Time As It Comes, The Wind As It Blows, Woman As She Is.