I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest. The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time. Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus. If I were to pluck on your heart strings would you strum on mine?
Hills like Pink Elephants: The story of a European girl and her American lover, and the girl's desire for strawberry ice-cream, but the American's desire to use her money for steak, despite the European girl being vegetarian.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
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