"My heart returns to me what I turn away. I am my own master but not always master of myself.
In the fossil record of our existence, there is no trace of love. You cannot find it held in the earth’s crust, waiting to be discovered. The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts. Their last meal is sometimes preserved in peat or in ice, but their thoughts and feelings are gone. Where did love begin? What human being looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary, dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yellow flowers and, not knowing what you did, picked them because I love you?"
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it wont let me post a picture here, but if it would this is what id post... http://www.dogdaysitter.com/imagedrop/lovers.jpg
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