It's like a spell. It's so strong I can't fight it. Is love always like this?
It's what you do to yourself when you go mad with rage. You have no idea how much you can hurt yourself with your own strength.
How was it possible for the world to be so beautiful and so cruel at the same time?
I am not made for despair
She entered a state where prayer and poetry became one and the everyday world seemed full of holiness and significance.
..while I was happy enough to pray to any god, knowing that they were simply different faces created by men, of one indivisible truth.