Born in heart, stored in the read, stay in the memory.
If I were a magic, Is it right? Leave no regrets.
But remember, appeared.
If you don't read, then silence in the brain, waiting for the call.
Always in search of their own, the song, poem, or a dream.
The reality of their own but like in the clouds, if there is no, look not clear.
Sand with time, static evanescent flow away.
Weigela luxuriantly, but pale spirit.
The heart has a feeling for regret.
Probably only regret, can we truly touching the heart.
Years later, we sighed are mostly those unfinished dream, rather than have to do.
A story, perhaps only to be continued at the end, will cause people thinking.
Everyone can write the next plot in the heart.
Different choices, different outcome.
That has happened is our own choice is a choice.
Leave a little regret to finish, perhaps much more likely.
Remember, not that person, when things, but can not change the outcome, can not afford to lose regrets.
Die, four words more simple, really anyone can do?
If you really do, I am afraid that life is not perfect, the life has no recollection of the story, can not be missed to be continued.
Stay fine flowers have been old, as join hands in the rain watching.
The rain is not wet, flowers?
The flowers bloom, she in?
When she is in, the rain stopped?
When the rain break, you would enjoy the flowers with her messy with her,he wouldsanctioneverything at oncehe answered. ?
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