Once upon a time, an angel lay dying in the mist. And a devil knelt over him and smiled.

Anyway, since when are you shy? Just talk to him already!' ' 'And say what? Nice fiddling, handsome man?' 'Absolutely.

Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.

Peace is more than the absence of war. Peace is accord. Harmony.

With the infinite patience of one who has learned to live broken, he awaited her return.

She stabbed him in the armpit, deep, and he dropped his sword. And died. So that's what is feels like, she thought as her boldness gave away to trembling. It feels awful.

Your soul sings to mine. My soul is yours, and it always will be, in any world. No matter what happens. I need you to remember that I love you.