The Costliest Women Are The Ones Who

As All The Perfumes Of The Vanished Dayrise From The Earth Still Moistened With The Dewso From My Chastened Soul Beneath Thy Rayold Love Is Born Anew.

Memory Is What Makes Us Young Or Old.

Romanticism Is The Abuse Of Adjectives

With A Kiss Let Us Set Out For An Unknown World.

I Deeply Wished I Could Make The Stars All Come Down And Breathe Them; Disappear In Them