(Hint: it's not about the finger.)
Who believes in love at first sight?
Who says love is irrational?
I saw clearly who had placed the stone in the way of the water's course - it was I who had disrupted my own pure flow. I had done myself this disservice.
One becomes two, two becomes four, four becomes the multitude of forevermore.
Fortunately, you never have to find out what it feel like in your own skin.
What do you carry with you, what do you leave behind?
What's new with you?
Words can't finish what words started.
I am not my health, I am not my sickness; I am not my intelligence, I am not my fitness.
I will be what I will be.
A song sung round a campfire near Humminshire.