Fate, they say, fate- the clay that molds the events of your life, and it was the same fate that had thrown the stone of her heart on the building of his expectations. But then wasn't it his fault that he had constructed the building of glass? Hadn't he failed to cement the bricks of his love with trust and colour them with security? There was no insurance for broken hearts, no ointment for wounded souls and there would never be one, he knew.

Today many of these selfish politicians are preying on the nation itself - (belching corruption and farting discontent!)

The most difficult aspect of moving on is accepting that the other person already did.

One half of me is a hopeless romantic. The other half is well... just realistic.

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

Not watching the path where his legs took him, he walked on because he knew he had to walk ahead, leaving his past behind.

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.