My thirst grows and little lines grow beneath my eyes, telling myself that kissing her just makes me hungry. I pull back and look away, trying to control myself.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world. — Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah
