I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike?
“The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.”
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A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.
The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth.
I love cats because I enjoy my home and little by little, they become its visible soul.