I was tired of playing the child and acting the way many of my friends did - the ones who are afraid that love is impossible without even knowing what love is. If I stayed like that, I would miss out on everything good that these few days with him might offer.

There could have been no two hearts So open, no tastes so similar, no feelings So in unison, no countenances So beloved. Now they were strangers; Nay, worse than strangers, for they Could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.

The great writers of aphorisms read as if they had all known each other well.

Touch to the lover soul before touch the body

Written By Liza

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