love-story

Love is the beauty of the being.

You soul is only satisfy with your soul-spirit, soul mate.

Be happy with your soul mate.

ACTS OF LOVELove is not a wordOr a thought.It is the name forAn actionThat breathes from its light.What do you DOIn Love's name?And is it only doneOutside In the light?Or with an innerFlameIlluminatingLove'sTRUEName?I want to know.Are your actionsDone by remoteOr withSOUL?And when you sayYou love someone,Does a light go offInside at all?What haveYOUDoneIn theName ofLOVE?Because,Really,I want to know.

Our souls speak a language that is beyond human understanding. A connection so rare the universe won't let us part.

Sometimes souls are meant to meet and fleet for they have different contracts to complete.

He stirred my soul in the most subtle way and the story between us wrote itself.

Some of us cover to protect our bodiessome of us cover to protect our soulsin both cases,respect their choices.

Reaffirm your love for one another and let grow.

You have the face of a man who gently caresses field flowers and dandelions. And a smile that is like a dagger, cutting the sun in halves.

There was nothing she would ever change about him , except for who he thought she was.

Being friends is different from being lovers. It__ a sea change.

We will all experience the judgment of others when we fall in love. Love with your whole being anyway.

To love without ownership, to love with total trust and faith in that very love, to love with the same faith you have that your heart will keep beating moments from now, that is the ultimate love.

Florence imagined the Hammer and Sickle metallurgical plant to be an enormous brick factory like the ones in New York. But as she approached she saw it was in fact a small city of its own

Florence could feel a constriction in her chest_She had been foolish enough to hope that whatever she was walking into would affect no one but herself. Now the truth was catching up with her at the speed of her galloping heartbeat_Now they had summoned her. And they knew everything

Sergey described the mighty furnaces and plants rising up from the steppes. __ow far we__e come. How much work there is still to do!_ She would have to see it herself one day, with her own eyes. Florence reread the last line with a turbulent flip in her stomach. Was this an invitation?

Only then, as she prepared to cross the avenue, did she again spot the man in the fedora hat. He was at the opposite side of the street from where he__ stood before, but the caramel color of his coat was unmistakable. He was loitering in front of what looked like a Ford V8 parked nose-up on the sidewalk. Florence adjusted her shawl over her shoulders and crossed to the opposite corner of the plaza. When she turned back to look again, he was gone