Siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia, tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre, la sangre de tus venas en mi boca, tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte. -From 'Del amor imprevisto', Federico Garcia Lorca
"Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish,
A vapour sometimes like a bear or lion,
A towered citadel, a pendant rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory,
With trees upon't that nod unto the world,And mock our eyes with air.."
More than anything she wanted the world to be uncomplicated, for right and wrong to be as easily divided as the black and white sections of an Oreo. But the world was not a cookie. — Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes