Art awakens a sense of real by establishing an intimate relationship between our inner being and the universe at large, bringing us a consciousness of deep joy.

False hope is clung to with all one's might and main, till a day comes when it has sucked the heart dry and it forcibly breaks through its bonds and departs. After that comes the misery of awakening, and then once again the longing to get back into the maze of the same mistakes.

For every child that is born, it brings with it the hope that God is not yet disappointed with man.

It is no easy task to lead men. But it is easy enough to drive them.

Memory, the priestess, kills the present and offers its heart to the shrine of the dead past.

Love is when the soul starts to sing and the flowers of your life bloom on their own.

Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.