The Beautiful Has But One Type, The

Love Would Never Be A Promise Of A Rose Garden Unless It Is Showered With Light Of Faith, Water Of Sincerity And Air Of Passion. Sometimes We Make Love With Our Eyes. Sometimes We Make Love With Our Hands. Sometimes We Make Love With Our Bodies. Always We Make Love With Our Hearts. If I Could Reach Up And Hold A Star For Every Time You've Made Me Smile, The Entire Evening Sky Would Be In The Palm Of My Hand. To Love Another Person Is To See The Face Of God.

To Know, To Think, To Dream. That Is Everything.

When People Look Back At Their Childhood Or Youth, Their Wistfulness Comes From The Memory, Not Of What Their Lives Had Been In Those Years, But Of What Life Had Then Promised To Be. The Expectation Of Some Indefinable Splendor, Of The Unusual, The Exciting, The Great Is An Attribute Of Youth And The Process Of Aging Is The Process Of That Expectations' Gradual Extinction. One Does Not Have To Let It Happen. But That Fire Dies For Lack Of Fuel, Under The Gray Weight Of Disappointments.

You Would Have Imagined Her At One Moment A Maniac, At Another A Queen.

I Didn't Believe It Could Be So Monstrous. It's Wrong To Be So Absorbed In Divine Law As Not To Perceive Human Law. Death Belongs To God Alone. By What Right Do Men Tough That Unknown Thing?