Sometime is that appointment, the final one to meet. Let's color all with love, for Time is naught but fleet.

Cinnamon bites and kisses simultaneously.

Sometime is that appointment, the final one to meet. Let's color all with love, for Time is naught but fleet.

Is it a form of social play that underneath the words people say, there is a different conversation going on?

How do we define consciousness, or what has been called the human soul or the spirit, if it can't be quantified as matter or a particle?.. It can be quantified or observed just by a process of elimination.

The height of mediocrity is still low.

Where you see valid achievements or virtue being attacked, it's by someone viewing them as a mirror of their own inadequacy instead of an inspiring beacon for excellence.