Dreams, I Thought. They're The Riches Of

Dreams, I Thought. They're The Riches Of A Poor Person, Stashed In Treasure Chests Buried Deeply In The Imagination. But Are Dreams Enough?

Life Is Like That - Twenty Minutes Of Misery For Every Two Seconds Of Joy.

It Was The Eyes. The Secret Of Love Was In The Eyes. The Way One Person Looked At Another, The Way Eyes Communicated And Spoke When The Lips Never Moved.

Seek The Tarnish And You Shall Find

Love, When It Came And Knocked On My Door, Was Going To Be Enough. And That Unknown Author Who'd Written That If You Had Fame, It Was Not Enough, And If You Had Wealth As Well, It Was Still Not Enough, And If You Had Fame, Wealth, And Also Love ... Still It Was Not Enough - Boy, Did I Feel Sorry For Him.