Be content with what thou hast received, and smooth thy frowning forehead, for the door of choice is not open either to thee or me.

We don't need sugar, flour or rice or anything else. We just want to see our dear ones.

You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.

Plant a Seed so your Heart will Grow.

Come Dance with Me , come dance.

Now is the time to know that all that you do is sacred... Now is the time for you to deeply compute the impossibility that there is anything but grace.

Woe to the dupe that yields to Fate!