#sonmi

/You said you envied your unthinking, untroubled sisters./ That is not quite the same as wishing to be one.

Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same it’s still a cloud an’ so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud’s blowed from or who the soul’ll be ‘morrow?

I believe death is only a door, when it closes, another opens. If I care to imagine heaven. I would imagine a door opening. And behind it, I would find him there, waiting for me.

All revolutions are the sheerest fantasy until they happen; then they become historical inevitabilities.