Do You Hear The People Sing? Singing

Thought Is The Labor Of The Intellect, Reverie Is Its Pleasure.

At Least You Are Mine! Soon – In A Few Months, Perhaps, My Angel Will Sleep In My Arms, Will Awaken In My Arms, Will Live There. All Your Thought At All Moments, All Your Looks Will Be For Me; All My Thought, All My Moments, All My Looks Will Be For You!

Those Who Live Are Those Who Fight.

Love Is Like A Tree, It Grows Of Its Own Accord, It Puts Down Deep Roots Into Our Whole Being.

Great Perils Have This Beauty, That They Bring To Light The Fraternity Of Strangers.