Love Itself Draws On A

From Two Ears That Had Grown Side By Side, The Grains Of One Shot Up Joyfully Into The Light, Projecting Themselves Into The Future, And The Grains From The Other Lay Still In The Earth And Rotted; And Nobody Knew Why.

It Does Not Matter Much Whom We Live With In This World, But It Matters A Great Deal Whom We Dream Of.

Oh, The Germans Classify, But The French Arrange.

Some Things Are Best Learned In Calm, Others In Storm.

Oh, That's The Beauty Of The Rose, That It Blossoms And Dies.