Tereza Knew What Happens During The Moment

Sleep In My Arms. Like A Baby Bird. Like A Broom Among Brooms... In A Broom Closet. Like A Tiny Parrot. Like A Whistle. Like A Little Song. A Song Sung By A Forest... Within A Forest... A Thousand Years Ago.

Seeing Is Limited By Two Borders: Strong Light, Which Blinds, And Total Darkness.

A Single Metaphor Can Give Birth To Love.

He Kept Recalling Her Lying On His Bed; She Reminded Him Of No One In His Former Life.

Through The Air Floated Only Important Words, And Flajsman Said To Himself That Love Has But One True Measure, And That Is Death. At The End Of True Love Is Death, And Only The Love That Ends In Death Is Love.