Libraries Are The Torch Of The World,

And Just As I Begin To Believe That All Is Well, There Is Some Subtle Change In The Light. The Room Takes Its True Shape. I Fight To Go Back To That Blissful Ignorance, But It Is Too Late. The Dull Pain Of Truth Weights My Soul, Pulling It Under. I Am Left Hopelessly Awake.

The Desperation Meeting The Silence With Its Unmasked Wish.

The Hand You Hold The Longest Is Your Own.

To Live Is To Love, To Love Is To Live.

Time Has No Meaning. I Feel As If I Have Been Left In The Desert To Die And Am Eagerly Awaiting The Vultures To Begin Their Work And End My Misery.