Listen to the voices of flowers in a dream, listen to the voice of the leaves, listening to the breeze soft fur, the wings of the sun light spirit, rain drops slightly vibrate, the soul of laughter. Listen quietly, listening to birds singing, flowers, nature and the music of sadness.
Winter is short, so haven’t had time to see, will be in a hurry to leave. Warm wind blows the curtain, the green garden, is already a butterfly dance warbler fly, yangchun in February.
Once read a story the love has no weight, said is a little girl back his younger brother, and walked away far all don’t know tired, peer people feel very strange Hong Kong University, ask her: “don’t you tired?” The little girl smiled and replied: “I don’t feel heavy.” In the debris flow, a mother’s hands held up their children for several hours. The street is always to meet knelt on the ground kowtow more than mother, ask passers-by charity save the children of their own, a kowtow is half a day.
These are ordinary people unbearable, broke through the physical limits. Life, a lot of things let’s burden, marriage, family love, friendship, work europe data sim card, is not what we become fragile, but we lost love heart. Where is beautiful is where the heart is often in life: where, once the heart to leave, again beautiful scenery also did not have the significance.