You are mine-you know you're mine!" he cried wildly...the moonlight twisted in through the vines and listened...the fireflies hung upon their whispers as if to win his glance from the glory of their eyes.

Look at that,' she whispered, and then after a moment: 'I'd like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around.

Her philosophy is carpe diem for herself and laissez faire for others.

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

And in the end, we were all just humans...Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.

Beauty and love pass, I know... Oh, there's sadness, too. I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses-