love [Theme] Page 97

Holy creature of the sea and the sand,
In the hands of my sweet and so close.
Owning her, I moth flew
Innocent fire, one of her burning.
Responsive body, gentle mill,
Our unquenchable passion of a hurricane.
And her response - intoxicating Datura.
The story of our love already sung,
Not finished yet but this is still a sonnet.
Love - life-extension elixir
And let that day, but all that gave us the world
It is happiness that gives me strength
I happiness will carry to the grave.

Do you think monstrous what you are asked to change Ross. And in a narrow sense the way it is. But I can try to put it more precisely? Giving love, you don't reduce it. Loving me, you don't ruin your love for Ross. Love only creates and multiplies, but never destroys. You won't betray his love for Ross by giving a bit of love to me. You only multiply the love. Tenderness is not akin to money - the more you give, the more you get from others.

Since she whom I chose, feeling smitten,
Give it to heart myself
Knees will bow and tribute will be given for the fact that takes
For that deigns to understand
What's mine is hers, her eternity,
Day and infinity.
Her lips I'm kissing,
Love to prevent that transience.

- Remember what happened a year ago? We started talking about love to each other, on the principles of loyalty, God knows what else, and in the end you decided to leave me. Remember? You climbed into the saddle, and if a barrel of beer did not ferment at an odd hour, we could now not live together.
- I always thought that beer has a specific taste.

On Monday, I fell in love with
The whole vtornik have postradal,
The Sereda of love opened
In Thursday the answer was waiting.
On Friday came the decision,
So as not to wait for me a consolation
And in the bright Saturday
A million years to finish took;
But, keeping soul's salvation,
I was thinking on Sunday.

... And when these people in the quiet, frosty air sang the Psalms, it made an impression. When they fell silent, and before the movement began, every time there came a brief silence, and heard the distant sound of the sea. In the end, Mr. Rogers found that he would have to make the funeral the face of over three hundred people filled the Church and stood in the courtyard.
It was this unexpected tribute to broke Ross. Everything else he did. Not being a religious man, Ross possessed an inner strength to survive the loss of a child, but his own wounded willpower. Inwardly he rebelled against Providence and circumstances, but the extreme violence of the strike left an imprint on his character, making him even more hard and stubborn.
What Demelza will probably not survive now caused him a rush of gratitude. Loss too stunned and shocked. When the mother of the child took him to Church, he repeated the Psalm, which said:
"If today you hear the voice of God, don't be stubborn". But when mother died, even when he was crying, something rebelled inside to protect it from its own weakness, tenderness and fragility. He thought, "Well, I lost her and was left alone. So be it". Today he behaved as a child, how people Mature.
But this strange silent testimony of respect and love expressed by all these simple hard workers and starving neighbors, the time to break away from fields, farms, mines, somehow broke through his defense.

She is the former more fun than the former. The former always bitch and bitch. It is bad. It always something waiting. The former is always - "that bitch will regret it", "this bitch understands"... There definitely drunk friend-philosopher, who says: "life is only a mother! Only she will love you strong and weak." Women like this garbage does not suffer. There are no women, abandoned by the man she is sitting with wine and this: "worthy of Love only the father".

- I think, Elinor and Edward were involved. It would be cruel to end the relationship so soon. Why are you frowning? You disapprove her choice?
- Not at all. Edward is very nice.
- Nice, but?...
But there is something lacking. It was too cold. But as he read the poems?
- Elinor not too emotional. They fit each other.
- Is he able to love? Does the soul need only gentle affection? Love is a fire, a passion! Remember Juliet, Guinevere, Elise...
- They are not too well finished.
- Not too good? How can You say that! What could be better than dying for love?

Every day we buy other people's smiles and sell their. Sincere and deceitful, clever and open, dirty and clean, hypocritical and polite... And a smile of Love yet you can neither buy nor sell, but the devil is working on this...

What day is it today? she asked.
An excellent question, given the circumstances in which it is specified. I was expecting something more boring declarations of love or proposals to join some secret sect... "What day is it today"! Was from what to come to confusion. I came.

- And what is love in your opinion? - I asked.
- Hmm... - Ilya frowned. - No single answer. To describe the state of love difficult. Each has it own.
- For example?
- Some love is affection. In the latter respect. The third is understanding. IV, trust and loyalty. At the fifth - something intangible. At the sixth all together.
- So, - said I, - sixth the happiest.
"Perhaps," smiled Elijah. Happiness too each his own.

What is the modern school? Tired teachers of public institutions who hardly dreamed of thirty pupils, half of them outside of class are left to themselves and totally out of control... Closed elite school, where you can buy a great attitude to your child for big money. Why there, and there we can meet unequal attitude to the students? It's not always about the money. The teachers often have favorites - students in a special account, which give advances of praise and credibility. Small guys are often left deprived of the teaching of love, because you don't know how to use their own charisma. The teacher often dream about the "perfect student", so the activists and participants of the Olympics are sometimes rewarded with incredible preferences, up to a "pull" for the gold medal. Can I call it a fair education? Of course not. It's all in the ambitions and prestige of the school and the identity of other students just plain extras.

The opposite of love is death and love is bitter magical dope that helps us temporarily forget about dying. This is why anyone who knows anything about death knows something about love.

The problem of someone lacking love in that he does not know what kind of love. And it is easy to be deceived. You see what is not there. But how else? After all, we constantly deceive ourselves.