Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked.

And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless? But If In You Thought You Must Measure Time Into Seasons, Let Each Season Encircle All The Other Seasons, And Let Today Embrace The Past With Remembrance And The Future With Longing.

The Mute Grain Turns To Love Songs When Swallowed By The Nightingale.

Madness Is The First Step Towards Unselfishness. Be Mad And Tell Us What Is Behind The Veil Of "sanity". The Purpose Of Life Is To Bring Us Closer To Those Secrets, And Madness Is The Only Means.

And Forget Not That The Earth Delights To Feel Your Bare Feet And The Winds Long To Play With Your Hair.

Everyone Has Experienced That Truth: That Love, Like A Running Brook, Is Disregarded, Taken For Granted; But When The Brook Freezes Over, Then People Begin To Remember How It Was When It Ran, And They Want It To Run Again.