Photo credits: Ankit Purwar :)

A pure gaze, an honest mien;
the whitest heart, uncreased by sin.
But peep into my troubled soul,
behold a world of dark within.

She let the tears fall, rolling out of her eyes and down her cheeks, each drop taking away with it a little bit of her misery. But as they reached her lips, she gently gathered them on her tongue again, taking it all right back.For deep within that very misery, wrapped up in that very sorrow, lay her most poignant memories. And no matter how much they pained, it was those very memories that defined her, made her who she was now; and as long as she had her identity, she had hope.

Ah! The smell of the untouched, unopened pages: the aroma of unexperienced joy.
The crackle of the crisp, fresh paper: the promise of a new world; so we may escape and be lost in the wonders of a different universe.
And basking in this respite from the anarchy of our reality, I think; somewhere out there, in trembling hands, must lie the book of our existence, ready to save them from the anarchy of theirs.

'Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi at twenty minutes past five this afternoon. His assassin was a Hindu.'
-Radio announcement after Gandhiji's death.

[Freedon at Midnight]

'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.'
-Rhett Butler

[Gone With the Wind]