If you tell a true story, you can't be wrong.
All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road.
A man who allows wild passion to arise within, himself burns his heart, then after burning adds the wind that thereto which ignites the fire again, or not, as the case may be.
It always makes me proud to love the world somehow- hate's so easy compared.
Holding up my purring cat to the moon. I sighed.
I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference.