has been silent

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night fell, the western sky hung next to a crescent, the moon shed the cold ground, fantastic scenery often let go in the mind as in the scenes, memorable the good times, gradually got familiar with the shadowy outline. Because they are lonely, so the thought of getting obsessed. When the past uppermost when the lone figure need not worry because the short-term confusion. Trance, but it is still marking time, silence, has been silent, flowing voice was quiet the night.

howling autumn wind, full of melancholy, soul swirling yellow leaves, Lone Wild Goose whine. In the countless sleepless nights, looking out the moonlight,beats by dr dre, a few lonely stars of heaven, and looked wander, helpless wandering in a deep night, the lonely moonlight Xiangsichengzai.

dough the night,casque beats, the wind gently blowing. Disturb the tranquility of the night. Duckweed to send water, wind things flow. Windy night,ray ban lunettes de soleil, his place in the wind, like a warm wind, blowing away the strands of hair around the arms. Dark eyes will deceive the night in the gray blur sway. Filled with the warmth soften a stay in the heart, the wind carrying the ups and downs will be forgotten, blowing softly tempting, I'm quiet wan night will Longzhe blurred.

lonely figure, wandering through the vicissitudes of life, a thin miserable, through a bank of dust, clinging to protect landscape. Dust to the wind, when I look back, alone, lonely and sad, weathered the years of tears with a deep, all over the vast horizon, lonely, sad. The next month alone, sadness, solo melody. Lengthy time goes by, the vicissitudes of youth transition, rubbing shoulders silently away, the night was waning. Independence under dim lights shadow, how to escape every night of the Acacia. The evening breeze of loneliness, who can not erase the grief.

wandering the streets in the dark and in bright moon swim waves, bringing noble stars,beats by dre, to how many people miss the night, tears spilled so many people, so many people sad sparse. Share of the endless dark and eat cold lonely hurt so weak and weary soul. Fluctuations in the heart cries echoed,lunette ray ban, dim the already blurred eyes.

calmly sitting on the bench in the corner, listening to tunes familiar and sad for the soul of the feast Qingyin shallow sing. That wear on the brow of the gentle stream, gather all the infatuation with the wait, foreshadowing years of whispers and miss out. In this way, thinking about life, bit by bit pregnant, on tiptoes with the Mouguang touched every corner, trying to view. Can not find a trace, only Guying with me! Silent sorrow, flow quietly in the heart ... ...

quietly looking at the sky. Listen, it's still that Piaomiao song, and who cut off Cheng pulls. Desolation his mouth smile, shedding tears of longing to see full tracks air order chaotic Luo Hong, Yi came from a dream in the misty rain misty. Continued deep night, temperament to Rouchang penetrate the vast still there in the night travel forward.

Who Qianyindichang, struck a missing strings? Soft light such as moonlight thoughts drifting at the apex, deeply moved by the feelings over and over again. The phonological and gently touch the soft, as if the interpretation of a quiet chords. Alternating surface appearance, peel the impetuous, quiet the essence of the crystal. Listen graceful rhythm alone, alone product reveries of You. Nothing fetters, the relentless,monster beats, random thoughts every now and then.

in the lonely night, when I look back only to find that all the long past beyond recognition. Savings have already shed tears for a long time, stick to the indifference has gone with the wind. People walking in the vast sea, recalling the taste of warm, stagnation in the heart of the troubles were instantly gone, the wind blows into my heart the sea, Dangqi the layers of ripples.

faint stars in the Galaxy quietly flowing inside, cut the Qing Sheng miss Shibuya, layer upon layer of lush in the galaxy's cross, flat as a mirror without a trace of micro-Hao Yu Lan, clear water, such as only , elegant, such as blue, and that glimpse of the meteor string left ripples in the vast circle the sky jump linger. Tired before leaning out of windows, overlooking the faint, the number of melancholy seems to have become indifferent. How many emotions blurred wind.

used to think that loneliness deeper than loneliness. In fact, there really stuck in loneliness, I discovered that loneliness is more tough than the lonely even more tired. Alone do not boil, not the end of the road can only go on unlimited endure. And lonely people are always suffering from exhausted, and with a deeper sigh immersed in a new dream. Wake up tired after a sigh each time the cumulative weight of open flowers dream is a lonely, lonely dream so much and often busy, and tired after the end of the consequences is the flowers.

feeling young and lonely night, bleak staggering figure, dressed with it's full of melancholy Acacia left. Blurred the night, feeling long. Looking back, monopoly Wandering Road, Iraqis are already thousands of miles away. Cheers touching moment that smile, that moment of happiness in mind the memory of this life.

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The warm friendship of life

as he said

scenes like many


The driver clambered into his seat, clicked his tongue, and we went downhill. The brake squeaked horribly from time to time. At the foot he eased off the noisy mechanism and said, turning half round on his box--
"We shall see some more of them by-and-by."
"More idiots? How many of them are there, then?" I asked.
"There's four of them--children of a farmer near Ploumar here. . . . The parents are dead now," he added, after a while. "The grandmother lives on the farm. In the daytime they knock about on this road, and they come home at dusk along with the cattle. . . . It's a good farm."
We saw the other two: a boy and a girl, as the driver said. They were dressed exactly alike, in shapeless garments with petticoat-like skirts. The imperfect thing that lived within them moved those beings to howl at us from the top of the bank, where they sprawled amongst the tough stalks of furze. Their cropped black heads stuck out from the bright yellow wall of countless small blossoms. The faces were purple with the strain of yelling; the voices sounded blank and cracked like a mechanical imitation of old people's voices; and suddenly ceased when we turned into a lane.
I saw them many times in my wandering about the country. They lived on that road, drifting along its length here and there, according to the inexplicable impulses of their monstrous darkness. They were an offence to the sunshine, a reproach to empty heaven, a blight on the concentrated and purposeful vigour of the wild landscape. In time the story of their parents shaped itself before me out of the listless answers to my questions, out of the indifferent words heard in wayside inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.