Her curiosity instructed her more than the answers she was given.

Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam" | "She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed

I just know that I don't want cheating. I refuse. I deepened myself but I don't believe in myself because my thought is invented.

I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction?

Facts and particulars annoy me.

Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion.

Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad because what is fully mature is very close to rotting