“You fall into my arms. You are the good gift of destruction's path, When life sickens more than disease. And boldness is the root of beauty. Which draws us together.”
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I don't like people who have never fallen or stumbled. Their virtue is lifeless and it isn't of much value. Life hasn't revealed its beauty to them.
Literature is the art of discovering something extraordinary about ordinary people, and saying with ordinary words something extraordinary.
Love is not weakness. It is strong. Only the sacrament of marriage can contain it.
At the moment of childbirth, every woman has the same aura of isolation, as though she were abandoned, alone.