Or might the soul clone itself, create a perfect imitation of something yet to be defined? In this way, can a reflection be altered?

Christmas is far and away my favorite holiday. I love everything about it, from the event that inspired it, hoping for a white one, to wrapping presents. But mostly I love having family and friends gathered, and sharing traditions.

You were a summer gift, one I'll always treasure. You were a dream I never wanted to wake up from. You opened my eyes to things I'll never really see. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me.

I mean, if you're gonna purposely lose your mind, you want to get it back some day. Don't you? Okay, maybe not.

The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.

Love is for children and dimwads.

Not Exactly True That skin hate is dead. There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear. But when you live afraid of your neighbor, the monster you should most walk in terror of thrives. It starts as a little thing, small enough to burrow into your pores, take up excruciating residence in the dark recesses of your brain. Its name is paranoia, and it spreads like an oil spill, there in the shadows, chokes your humanity. Threatens your soul.