The Mouth Keeps Silent To Hear The

It Was One Of Those Somber Evenings When The Sighing Of The Wind Resembles The Moans Of A Dying Man; A Storm Was Brewing, And Between The Splashes Of Rain On The Windows There Was The Silence Of Death. All Nature Suffers In Such Moments; The Trees Writhe In Pain And Twist Their Heads; The Birds Of The Fields Cower Under The Bushes; The Streets Of Cities Are Deserted.

Memory Is What Makes Us Young Or Old.

The Only True Language In The World Is A Kiss.

Become Corrupt, Corrupt, And You Will Cease To Suffer!" This Has Been The Cry Of All Cities To Man.

Things They Don't Understand Always Cause A Sensation Among The English.