We Cling To Our Last

I Think I Hate Snow, Downright Hate It. There Is Something Stupefying In It, A Kind Of 'you Must Be Worse Before You're Better,' And Down It Spins.

What I Feel For You Can’t Be Conveyed In Phrasal Combinations; It Either Screams Out Loud Or Stays Painfully Silent But I Promise — It Beats Words. It Beats Worlds. I Promise

That's All Life Is - Something Childish And Very Natural. Isn't It?

I Want To Be All That I Am Capable Of Becoming.

I Always Felt That The Great High Privilege, Relief And Comfort Of Friendship Was That One Had To Explain Nothing.