Love is
Love is obsessive, possessive affection.
Labels: thought
Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue.... Temperament is the iron wire on which the beads are strung.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
