“ Writing is the painting of the voice. ”
I loved him as we always love for the first time, with idolatry and wild passion.
~ Voltaire
She blushed and so did he. She greeted him in a faltering voice, and he spoke to her without knowing what he was saying.
We never live, we are always in the expectation of living.
Let us work without reasoning,' said Martin; 'it is the only way to make life endurable.
