Peace is not happenstance. It is a living fire that must be fed constantly. It must be tended to with vigilance, else it dies out.
Thereโs a moment of profound sadness that can be dispelled only by summoning my anger.
I wonder how many times each day she dies a little.
True affection and love have a purity which shall always prevail over bigotry.
They see her differently now, as somebody. And isn't that what everyone wants? To be seen?
She never utters a sound even when she's crying, and that makes me a little sad. Doesn't seem right. When you cry, people should hear you. The world should stop.