Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter: Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know i...
Touch me. Dont be afraid. I cant hurt you. Go ahead and touch my smooth surface. Feel the cold, glass-like smoothness and the crevices and lines that ...
In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her rich...
