All beauty must have its imperfections, all happiness its share of sorrow.
Death was the ultimate power and I his eager, willing apprentice.
None of us can choose where we shall love.
I have often thought I would have been quite happy as a spider.Even a spider has the right to a mate.
Great beauty is often perceived by human senses as pain.
Memories are like fireflies darting across the surface of my mind, showing me here and there images so sharp and vivid that I catch my breath in wonder before the vignette disappears, sinking like a pebble into the quicksand of regret and recrimination.