This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
Merely to exist is not enough.
Life's aspirations come in the guise of children.
Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silence.
Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.
The past is always with us, for nothing that once was time can ever depart.