Some things aren't meant to be known. Only believed.
The world before us is a postcard, and I imagine the story we are writing on it.
A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .
... Change doesn't happen overnight-it's molded by people who don't give up
I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.
I just think perfection and lasting through the ages is for Greek statues, not us mere humans.