old little fox

Friday, July 25, 2014

«Everything will change, the place where your possessions used to lay, the comfort of your words that you used to say, your face before your beauty decays, the safety of your arms where I used to stay, nothing stays the same. Your gold will wither into grey, your roses will blossom and fade away. Not everything we love grows with age, that's why we remember, and never forget, the way things used to be.»

No comments:

Post a Comment