Love? he asked himself, giving no sense of recognition for that word in the dictionary of his mind. It was the only battle he had lost in life, the only thing that had been snatched away from him, before he could even claim it.

There is no home as comfortable as your father's arms and no bed as soft as your mother's lap.

It was like watching a movie being played on the blank screen of his mind; the only difference was that he did not get bored, no matter how many times he watched it.

It was going to be a long, dark night but not quite as dark as it was in the abyss of his heart where there was nothing but hollowness, yet it felt heavy, almost as if someone still resided there.

It was not one folly that Shakespeare talked about. If Love truly is but a myriad of follies then I have committed them all, that can mean only one thing - I loved her truly, madly, deeply!

I wonder if I could take back every 'I love you' ever said to you, would I do it?

Remember, someone, somewhere in some corner of this somewhat big world, is out there crying if you're unhappy and is happy if you are! And you know who that someone is!