“The tune of truth resounded in the hinterland of my mind, crooning to me that the tapestry of the past had long since been unraveled, that the threads of childhood bliss had been reassembled into quilts of angst and stress. Clinging to the past was like trying to hold on to water. But it was comforting to know that at one point in time, all of us had welcomed each day with cheers. All of us had loved life more than we craved death.”
Book:Scarlet Butterfly