“Our love was of the autumn- heady, golden and pure. But limited, always doomed to expire.”

A story of modern love- two people neither wanting to text first.

Deep down you always knew.

Despite everything I’m glad we met.

You were my dream and the problem with dreams is that you always wake up.

I looked at you and felt the stars go out in my heart.

Find the one you can talk to, when you can’t talk to anybody else.

Your eyes stole all my words away.

Half the world is carrying a broken heart, half the world is dreaming of being put together again.

Maybe one day we will travel the world together.

The memories won’t die but I will.

I exist too much, I feel too much, think too much. Reality is crushing the life out of me.

I pretend it doesn’t bother me but it’s tearing me apart.

And I’ll miss you, without saying a word.

I told the stars about you.

I loved you even when it hurt.

In the end you learn when to let go and when to hold on.

His beautiful, light imagination is the wing that on the autumn evening just brushes the dusky window.

Two monks sit facing, playing chess on the mountain, The bamboo shadow on the board is dark and clear. Not a person sees the bamboo’s shadow, One sometimes hears the pieces being moved.

Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.

A strip of water’s spread in the setting sun, Half the river’s emerald, half is red. I love the third night of the ninth month, The dew is like a pearl; the moon like a bow.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

Summer was felt a little more; in autumn I began to fall. When winter came with all its white, you were mine to kiss goodnight.

A life is a moment in season. A life is one snowfall. A life is one autumn day. A life is the delicate, rapid edge of a closing door’s shadow. A life is a brief movement of arms and of legs.