soulmate

Her kiss dissolves the universe. In that moment, I am unmade and then reborn.

Before I met you, my life ran on sheer amusement. After I met you, my life ran on sheer compassion.

When it occurs without having to voice it - vibin' on the same page, flowin' on the same wave, soakin' up the same light rays.

You see," she concluded miserably, "when I can call like that to him across space--I belong to him. He doesn't love me--he never will--but I belong to him.

When you give yourself to me, completely, I will bite you. Until then, my love, I will only nibble on you.__Cole

Then you don't know. You can't know what it feels like to meet a person and suddenly know without a doubt that the whole purpose of your life so far-every choice you made, every twist of fate along the way-was just a journey to get you to that person. My life started when I met Clea. Every minute without her is just killing time until we can be together again.

Just let me wait a little while longer,Under your window in the quite snow.Let me stand here and shiver, I__l be stronger If I can see your light before I go.All through the weeks I__e tried to keep my balance.Leaves fell, then rain, then shadows, I fell too.Easy restraint is not among my talents,Fall turned to Winter and I came to you.Kissed by the snow I contemplate your face.Oh, do not hide it in your pillow yet!Warm rooms would never lure me from this place,If only I could see your silhouette.Turn on your light, my sun, my summer love.Zero degrees down here, July above.

The irony of the human heart is that it__ tormented both by the presence and absence of it__ own soul__ counterpart.

Love, they said, burns youand builds you.But with you, there__ no ash.Just light.

Not branded dresses, expensive perfumes, studded sandals, glamorous accessories, the true beauty of a woman is her smile, willpower, confidence, intelligence and her ability to survive and rule with pride in a man's world.Happy Woman's Day !

You will find what you seek.

We each have our own language.Our own way of thinking, of talking to ourselves, of making sense of the world and putting it in order. A narration style that is ours and ours alone. That's why some of us connect and some of us don't. Because even though we can only live in our own heads, sometimes - every now and then - we meet a person we can talk to without speaking at all: whose story we can read, without even trying.