Live. Laugh. Love.
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
Life shrinks or expands according to one’s courage.
Since when has love ever looked for reasons, or evidence? Why would love bow to the reality of things, when it creates a reality of its own, so much more vivid, wherein everything resonates to the key of the heart?