Poetry is not an art, it's a symptom.
He felt torn. He wanted her to feel safe with him, but he also wanted her to feel the sort of heady excitement that any young girl should feel when they fall in love. He wanted to give her everything...
Om is that God of love. Like a loving mother Om cleans us of our clutters collected through many incarnations.
A blank canvas...has unlimited possibilities.
Fate was cruel to play this trick on her, although if she were honest she knew she only had herself to blame. She had taken the chance and now she had to pay the price.
I love you Bonnie. So much that I hurt with it. And I hate it, and I love it, and I want it to go away, and i want it to stay forever....
Listen up, Nic," she said firmly, looking straight into his gray-blue eyes. "If you die on me out here, so help me I'll hold seances and pester you. I won't give you a moment's peace in the hereafter,...
Don't be tricked by the verisimilitude into forgetting this is fiction!
a generation:the black night gave me black eyesstill I use them to seek the light
Sometimes people who look different from you are scary. Maybe they are ugly. Maybe they are loud. Maybe theyare big. Maybe they are green. Maybe they are all those things. But you should not be afraid...
I am Not, but the Universe is my Self.