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These paper boats of mine are meant to dance on the ripples of hours, and not reach any destination.

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YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,'said the dewdrop to the lake.

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Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.

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He who wants to do good, knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gates open.

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The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.

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Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.