Verily The Lust For Comfort

How Can I Lose Faith In The Justice Of Life, When The Dreams Of Those Who Sleep Upon Feathers Are Not More Beautiful Than The Dreams Of Those Who Sleep Upon The Earth?

The Love Of A Parent For A Child Is The Love That Should Grow Towards Separation.

I Am The Lover's Gift; I Am The Wedding Wreath; I Am The Memory Of A Moment Of Happiness; I Am The Last Gift Of The Living To The Dead; I Am A Part Of Joy And A Part Of Sorrow.

Long Were The Days Of Pain I Have Spent Within Its Walls, And Long Were The Nights Of Aloneness; And Who Can Depart From His Pain And His Aloneness Without Regret?

If Indeed You Must Be Candid, Be Candid Beautifully.