Arthur Golden

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At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it

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The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains

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I don't know when we'll see each other again or what the world will be like when we do. We may both have seen many horrible things. But I will think of you every time I need to be reminded that there is beauty and goodness in the world

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We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course

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If you aren't the woman I think you are, then this isn't the world I thought it was