I look for the words, Professor. I look for the words because I believe that the words is the way to your heart.

But there are no absolutes in human misery and things can always get worse

The freedom of birds is an insult to me.

For things at a common destination there is a common path. Not always easy to see. But there.

The wind sounded of Mother Earth's forsaken and abandoned cries.

They spoke less and less between them until at last they were silent altogether as is often the way with travelers approaching the end of a journey.

Suppose you were the last one left? Suppose you did that to yourself?