He that thinketh he leadeth and hath no one following him is only taking a walk.

Jo had learned that hearts, like flowers, cannot be rudely handled, but must open naturally…

They stopped thinking with an almost painful relief, stopped seeing; they only breathed and sought each other. They were both in the gray gentle world of a mild hangover of fatigue when the nerves relax in bunches like piano strings, and crackle suddenly like wicker chairs. Nerves so raw and tender must surely join other nerves, lips to lips, breast to breast…

Join the train of life when you ought to because the train may not come back, even if it does, it may take more years and the first passengers won't be  in the train station.

Written By Marcel

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