kattenkunst abstract schilderen collage fotografie schrijven narcisme
When angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove; but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts.
MARY BAKER EDDY
You're Mourning the Person They Pretended to Be You miss them because, at one point, they were affectionate, attentive, and seemed to ...
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