“Remember the days of moments past.they bloom like rosesthen break like glassScott M. Davis”

“Fridays! They are the worst. Days stuffed with itsy-bitsy multicoloured tasks that fill every second of the day, but like M&M´s fail to nourish in any way.”

“But pleasures are like poppies spread,You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed;Or, like the snow-fall in the river,A moment white, then melts forever.”

“But just remember: a woman's like a rose; if you treat her right, she'll bloom, if you don't, she'll wilt.”

“What a strange thing it is to wake up to a milk-white overcast June morning! The sun is hidden by a thick cotton blanket of clouds, and the air is vapor-filled and hazy with a concentration of blooming scent.The world is somnolent and cool, in a temporary reprieve from the normal heat and radiance.But the sensation of illusion is strong. Because the sun can break through the clouds at any moment . . .What a soft thoughtful time.In this illusory gloom, like a night-blooming flower, let your imagination bloom in a riot of color.”

“We do not remember days, we remember moments.”