Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely is made for the eye of one who sees.

Is this the real life Is this just fantasy Caught in a landslide No escape from reality Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come, easy go; little high, little low anyway the wind blows doesn't really matter to me To me.

The painter who draws merely by practice and by eye, without any reason, is like a mirror which copies every thing placed in front of it without being conscious of their existence.

The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye. The story of love is Hello and Goodbye. Until we meet again.......