Exists no miracle mightier than this: to feel.
What if a dawn of a doom of a dream bites this universe in two, peels forever out of his grave, and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?
suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head.
Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.
You and I are more than you and I because it's we.
O sweet spontaneous earth