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When you can"t see you, you are beautiful.


I love you, I am a monster, but I love you.


My heart is bursting with love"s pain.


I only knew that I was sure she would leave me forever.


He tore my heart, but you broke my life.


Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sins, my soul.


I melted in the sun, the book became a fig tree leaves.


The light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul.


The moral feeling of human nature is an obligation, and we must endow the soul with the sense of beauty.


Not only do we live in the world of thought, but also in the world of matter.


She will grow old, but I don"t care. Just to see her, love will still be in my heart.


It is regret, is crying when sin to stab the heart of tenderness, love, affection is the bow and scrape it despair.


I think the buffalo and the angel, in secret to durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art.


She would fade and wither, do, but as long as I look at her, love will be in my heart.


In the spring with yellow, green, light red decorate Thayer street, Lolita never again to save the heart just want to act.


I touched the pain in my chest. It was the place where she had one or two times in my hair.


I love you, I am a monster, but I love you. I am arrogant and so on, mean and having no sense of shame and cruel. But I love you, I love you!


You can laugh at me, and can threat was banished from the court, but I still want to shout the truth, until I suffocate, choke me half to death.


At that time my ears a piece of children"s laughter, make me frustrated not around there is no Lolita, but laughter without her.


I now think of aurochs and angels, think of the secrets of durable pigments, think of the prophetic sonnets, think of art of the sanctuary.


Whenever I look back to their youth, like the days when is the snowstorm in the morning of white snow, like the winds were blowing away from me.


Then I secretly to contemplate, the faithful villain how can forget everything, everything, when those of us old lover on every inch of the good they are still the treasure.


Pale, bloated, mixed vulgar, belly is someone else"s blood, but I love her. She would fade and wither, how can. But I"m only a glimpse of love in my heart.


Because I am in the world the most annoying is group activity, kind of like the body hairy and found the naked to a growing number of ordinary way mixed together, a collective bath.


I"m thinking of bison and angels, paint enduring secret prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. This is what I think of, I can share with you forever, my Lolita.


Are the girls in this age limit all sexy girls? Certainly not. Otherwise, those of us who are familiar with this, we the lonely traveler, we these addiction color is greedy for a flower. Wouldn"t that be long gone insane.


I only resentment is I can take out my Lolita heart, not the voracious lips to her tender uterus, secrecy of her heart, her beautiful liver, she Sargassum lung, she is similar to the two halves of the lovely hip.


However, I was tall and skinny, Beck wide, covered with the sheep like chest Humbert Humbert, thick black eyebrows, a queer accent, behind the smile he man elegant, hidden is the devil in a sewage ditch like rancid. 


I looked at her, looked and hope. Life wholeheartedly, I love the most is her, to be sure, like yourself will die as sure. She could fade and wither, how can. But I just look at her, tenderness, then my heart.


In a moment, we frantically, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly fell in love and hopeless, I must add that; because of mutual possession frantic only by actual sucking, fusion per molecule of each other"s soul and flesh, can calm down.


My beauty leaned down, to me, to me staring congestion of a thousand eyes show her slightly raised shoulder blades, showing her along the spine bending present bud, showing her taut, narrow nates clothed in black shows the expansion, as well as her schoolgirl thighs.


I put his hand over his face, tears flowing down the first hot. I feel the tears flowing through my fingers down her cheeks, burning my. My nose is blocked, but my tears can"t stop. At this moment, she touched my wrist gently. "Don"t touch me, or I"ll die." I say.


I loved her, certainly, I will die, as sure as. Former flowery siren, now only leaves in their hometowns, pale, mixed vulgar, bloated, belly flesh is someone else"s, but I love her, she can fade, can fade, how can, but I just see her one eye, the tender, Chung heart.


In the early morning, she is the Luo, Pu ordinary Luo, wear a sock, height four feet ten inches. Wear loose pants, she was lola. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores when she was officially signed. But in my arms, she will always be Lolita. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sins, my soul.


I looked at her, looked and hope. Whole life, heart and soul. I love her, to be sure, as they will die as sure. On the same day as parthenopipes, now only leaves home. Pale, mixed vulgar, bloated belly is someone else"s blood. But I love her. She would fade and wither, how can. But I have only one eye, her tenderness, in my heart.


I looked at her, and looked at it again and again, I know, as far as I know I will certainly die as well, I loved her more than anything I have ever seen or imagined the earth. She was a woman, now like a dead leaf. But I loved her, this Lolita, pale, bloated, mixed vulgar, was carrying another man"s child. She could fade and wither, I don"t care, but as long as I look at her, all the tenderness, Chung on the heart.


We expect our friends to follow this or that logical, traditional model that we have set for them. We put all this all in my head arranged, we usually see someone less chance, every time I hear spoken of his time check he is how according to head along the brain with our opinion of him the match, the more we are satisfied. Any deviation from the fate we set for us will make us feel not only abnormal, but also immoral.