We Owe Thankfulness To God, Not Sour

Speak With The Language Of Love.

Don't Be Satisfied With Stories, How Things Have Gone With Others. Unfold Your Own Myth.

With Life As Short As A Half-taken Breath, Don't Plant Anything But Love.

In The Silence Between Your Heartbeat Bides A Summons. Do You Hear It? Name It If You Must, Or Leave It Forever Nameless, But Why Pretend It Is Not There?

When The Rose Is Gone And The Garden Faded You Will No Longer Hear The Nightingale's Song. The Beloved Is All; The Lover Just A Veil. The Beloved Is Living; The Lover A Dead Thing. If Love Withholds Its Strengthening Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Care, The Lover Is Left Like A Bird Without Wings. How Will I Be Awake And Aware If The Light Of The Beloved Is Absent? Love Wills That This Word Be Brought Forth.