A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.

your lives be as full and happy as ours,and may the seasons be kind to you and your friends. The door of our Abbey is always open to any travellers roaming the dusty path between the woodlands and the plains.

The Land of Dreams, that mystical realm, where the oddest of visions appear, come wander through scenes of joyful peace, or stampeded through nightmares of fear. Dare we open those secret doors, down dusty paths of mind, in long-forgotten corners, what memories we'll find. Who rules o'er the Kingdom of Night, where all is not what it seems? 'Tis I, the Weaver of Tales, for I am the Dreamer of Dreams!

Imagination is a gift given to us from God and each one of us use it differently.

Who knows, my friend? Maybe the sword does have some magic. Personally, I think it's the warrior who wields it.

Throughout his life the memory of that happy day stayed locked secretly in (his) heart.

Death comes to us all sooner or later. We cannot escape it.