Mariana Fulger

Something in your heart tells me spring is still very far, but your fingers have already millions of flourishing buds.

If someone holds by mistake a piece of hope, there is always someone else to make it disappear.

I know my life is a modest play, but I’m not its only scriptwriter.

Happiness is the endless effort of two tender hearts to be one for few minutes more.

My soul speaks much more languages than my fingers. So, let them make mistakes if they want to. They don't have any self-conscience.

Try to remember me when the cold frosty winter will set veils of snowflakes over my old hair. I will remember you too.

I know you're there by the way the sun dabs the Earth in that part of the Universe. I know you're there breathing the cold air of March and seeking for a sign of summer. I know you're there and that's enough for today.

I would play dice with God, and maybe I would win sometimes, but I’m already involved with God in this very complicated game of life.

The learned man will not rest until he finds the one to learn more from.

We often say that the heart calls out... the heart is mostly quiet, other parts are screaming for completion.