Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them
The intriguing placidity from the slothful pace of a snail is truly very peaceful. Our world is in need of this calmness to pacify itself
Do not trap yourself into an owl's hooting soundwhere sad nights linger through the blackness of a hound
You don’t need a sad soulto feel the beauty of a dead graveJust stay with the pale moonwhen darkness wants the night to be brave
