I can forget the unreturned fate, but I cannot forget your image and my love. When I miss you, ice and snow turn to tender water flow, and at that moment loneliness deepens our hearts and turn to beautiful memory. The feeling of waste, that something precious and irreplaceable has been lost is strong and essential.

We have seen how the despair of action produce a negative balance of mind which the sorely tried may achieve by accepting the horrors of life as inevitable and natural. Ideal and reality become too much to bear. Whether we reject or accept it, we should have charity and self-knowledge enough to let flights of angels sing me to my rest.

The feeling of their victory has triumphed over me, and it is problematic and will always make the impact of the ending complex and disturbing. If you wish, you may, however, view my dilemma from yet another perspective: I cannot exact vengeance, since I feel vaguely that the “Ghost,” in spite of proof to the contrary, is an emissary of the devil; I fall victim to an inhuman code of duty.

The peculiar thing about the battle box is surely that it is arranged so as to catch or even shock me. However, it also gives e several opportunities to recognize the situation and adapt myself to it. First, the dumb-show with its not particularly obscure acting-out of the illegal plot, then the Player Queen’s lines “In the second husband, let me be accurse! None wed the second, but who killed the first.”

And the elaborate preparation for the poisoning, all accompanied by the critics comments, which are nothing if not disruptive and untrue. It is easy to see that, from a practical point of view, the experiment is a failure, since I have not departed. Nonetheless, I have warned and am ready to protect myself.

I do not want to be locked in my ivory tower for the rest of my days, and even with the threats, I will eventually find you. The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” If you know yourself so well, you know nothing will keep me here in solitude.

Life is about living and having experiences and I will rest up and venture out. The bright lights, the music, the people—I cannot stay away from the. I want to feel alive. Thus, conscience and reality does not make cowards of us all. The unnatural, the infernal practice of breach of chastity can be traced to no other source than the absolute fiend. You do not look like much of a man to them. They see you as a coward that you would allow this to happen to your own.

Virtue is its own reward, and vice its own punishment. The impulses of love are so subtle, and the influence of false reasoning, when enforced by eloquence and passion, so unbounded, that no human virtue is secure from degeneracy. The World has faults; glaciers have crevasses; mountains have chasms; but is not the effect of the whole sublime?

Those who are not of this World can do little else to halt the errors of the obstinately Wordily.  There is no zeal blinder than that which is inspired with the love of justice against offenders. Our own hearts are our best prayer-rooms, and the chaplains wo can most help us are ourselves. True wisdom consists in doing that which is most agreeable to ourselves. White clouds are in the sky and water is in the river; that is my missing and love for you; may clouds drift to you and water flow into your heart.

Look back again, you can see the yesterday with all kinds of pleasant moments. Yesterday, we argued in the house. Yesterday, we played football at the park. Yesterday, you tested my endurance. Yesterday, we had dinner by candlelight. Yes! Yesterday is so beautiful and deserves a memory. You are in my dream for years. You with my hope take a long walk…I hope I can walk with you forever.

The forest where we had taken walks, blue, yellow, red, and pink flowers and nothing changes. When will you return so that we can enjoy all of these? Life, the time a story ends is the time another story begins. Here is a joyful story and sad story. Story is still in regardless of joy or sadness.

I feel completely integrated, as a man, as a writer, and as a young man of God. I have grown in maturity as a man, however, and it is inevitable that this growth will influence my work as a writer. The only question is how deep the influence will officially prove to me.