24 Jan 2005

Death is the one secret that is shared by everyone.

Faith is the mystery nearest to us: a breath that can move mountains.

He who understands is often himself misunderstood.

The sound of a thought sometimes makes the heart stop to listen.

He who knows nothing is one better than he who knows it all.

If life were fair, we’d complain about the monotony.

A broken heart, in love, is learning the first words of the vocabulary.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:05 am

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