Beauty is a cheap word, but beauty remains priceless.

When the star dies, Its eye closes; tired of watching, It flies back to its first bright dream.

Strangers are endearing because you don’t know them yet.

The same word we love and hate, leaves in different directions, taking different paths.

A word into the silence thrown always finds its echo somewhere where silence opens hidden lexicons.

Every scent is the sun's scent.

When all is lost, there is still a memory.