The fox came to pay the birch tree a vist, bringing with him a book of poetry. He was wearing a dark blue suit fresh from the tailor’s, and his light brown leather shoes squeaked slightly as he walked.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey. She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns.
But no matter how far he flew, he didn’t get any closer to the sun.
Or as if all the world’s diamonds, that the diamond companies hide in order to keep prices up, had been abruptly dumped out and scattered recklessly all over.