The Tardy Cherub

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Cupid snoozed—his alarm betrayed, Wings askew, his bow mislaid. Love showed up a moment late, Blushing, breathless, tempting fate. Turns out hearts still fell just fine— Even tardy arrows hit on time.

The River

 “We often make judgments about other people. We call one person kind, the other stupid, the third evil, the fourth clever. But we should not do so. A man changes constantly; he flows like a river, and every new day he differs from what he was before. He was stupid and became clever; he was evil and became kind at heart; and so on. You cannot judge another person. The moment you blame him, he becomes someone different.” (Leo Tolstoy)



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