A stolen heart is perhaps the most profound of any larceny ... its theft removes any joy that once flourished, and places anguish inside an empty soul.
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Roses have natural defense,
It does not prick when handled with care,
Its colours are a warm reflection of pure love.
If you are looking for a rose without thorns, clearly it's not a rose you are looking for.
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True valour blooms not in grand display, but roots in deeds, where honesty holds sway, Like mighty oak, standing firm and tall, A brave soul's essence, in echoes, shall enthral
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If mankind is to survive and flourish, it must rid itself of petty hatreds, whether racial, ethnic, cultural, or political, and realize that through the multitude of diversity and difference, a reservoir of commonality is far greater than all the conflicts we endure.
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" The tissues of the life to be we weave with Colours all our own, and in the Fields Of Destiny we reap as we have sown "
- R. J. Campbell
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You are like a white light, placid behind the prism of shyness, but full of colours when you break free <3
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Evaluation of life-worth is coloured by the legacy for which your existence is immortalized or bastardized.
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Life is beautiful with colours
No wonder the rainbow
Has seven
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"The seeds of freedom cannot flourish in flames of fire".
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Colours dance before our eyes, starbursts take us up and down through tunnels rollercoaster rides home - sex, love, birth, death, all through spectral colours, life sensual senses something electric, close and far away, in the green and blue dance.
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Colours dance before our eyes starbursts take us up and down through tunnels rollercoaster rides home - sex, love, birth, death, all through spectral colours, life sensual senses something electric, close and far away, in the green and blue dance.
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Soon when your wings regains strength
You shall fly so high as if the force of gravity
Has lost its power.
The glitters from your colourful sterling wings
Shall be seen as the stars possessed
By the book of possibilities
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There exist a sea of toxicity where no good can dilute it and no life can flourish in it.stay away from its shore lest one may be pulled away by the tides into the drowning depth of a merciless death.
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Authority changed its name to politician and has flourished to this day.
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Some awfy solitary nostalgia so with customery worlds colours and brushes-
No! It's not enough.
still my sketch best suits in your ashes. ..
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WHY DO WE PUT ALL OUR DIFFICULTIES ON THE SHOULDERS OF OF GOD.
WHILE NOT EVEN TRYING TO KNOW THE REAL REASON FOR THE DIFFICULTIES TO FLOURISH.......
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YOUR BEAUTY WILL NOT BE DISPLAYED BY YOUR BODY TEXTURE AND COLOUR GOD GAVE YOU BUT BY YOUR BEHAVIOUR AND THINKING.......
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I am a great painter In this game called life
So I paint it in colours that suit my taste
And when the brush slips and paints out of place
I correct that mistake To a whole different shade
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Autumn reveals all her colours before Winter breezes in and tries to kiss you with her cold lips...
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Smiles not colour,
values not religion,
love not gender,
unite us.
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"Love never withers in the darkness of failure, rather, it flourishes in the light of truth".
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God cares not of the hue of man's skin only the colour of his heart within
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Life is like a canvas, the variety brush strokes and colours depict your life experiences.
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My mind's a minefield. To traverse it and make it out in one piece is a victory I'm trying to avoid. Let me load my paint gun with more colour. Reloading artillery now.
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everything people go through affects me 10x more, and that is a positive and a negative thing, when i am sad, i am depressed, when i am happy i am elated, when i am in love i express it, my feelings are like art, and how people exaggerate things on a painting or in an art piece. when trying to show saddness they use a dark, cool pallete, when they portray happiness they use warm, vibrant colours
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If you decide to fall apart, make sure you do so in colourful smithereens
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Autumn is so beautiful in its own way as it decorates land below you with different colours and textures.
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Real men are made in the Library while foolish men are made in the beer parlour.
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Sometimes the storms of life crash wildly against our minds, tears rain down and pool together in lakes of sorrow. And darkness falls slowly over us on a shroud of decay. Then something happens - the wind changes, the clouds break and light suddenly shines on the failing mist to reveal an arc of colours long forgotten. And it reminds us that true beauty can still grow from true sadness; that some of the most wonderful things in life are born from the depths of despair.
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"Your love turns my grey rainbow to colour"
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