My only two weapons: time and silence.

Love, you are eternal like springtime.

…Perhaps this momentary life of ours is only the light that divides our infinite origin from our infinite end.

My only two weapons: time and silence.

The urban man is an uprooted tree, he can put out leaves, flowers and grow fruit but what a nostalgia his leaf, flower, and fruit will always have for mother earth!

A fantasy can be equivalent to a paradise and if the fantasy passes, better yet, because eternal paradise would be very boring.

Some of my affectionate envious friends say, "You write too much." Maybe, I answer. But as long as the best of your little is worse than the worst of my much, I will keep on doing so.