Εσεις πως θα περιγράφατε την σχέση σας, αν έπρεπε να χρησιμοπειήσετε 24 προτάσεις;

The Secret Garden opens by introducing us to Mary Lennox, a sickly, foul-tempered, unsightly little girl who loves no one and whom no one loves. At the outset of the story, she is living in India with her parents—a dashing army captain and his frivolous, beautiful wife—but is rarely permitted to see them. They have placed her under the constant care of a number of native servants, as they find her too hideous and tiresome to look after. Mary's circumstances are cast into complete upheaval when an outbreak of cholera devastates the Lennox household, leaving no one alive but herself.

Long ago, in the Higher Realms, Alexikan, the Dark Prince of Malice, peacefully schemed to murder his dad with much glee and satisfaction. But one night, an old beggar woman came to the star palace of the Prince, and offered him a lily in return for shelter from the cold. The Prince sneered: he could clearly see that she was a Fay in disguise and mocked her for presuming that she could teach him some quaint moral lesson with her tricks. So the old woman up and punched him through dimensions, all the way to the Lower Realms. And there the Prince roams still, looking for a way home...

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Mansfield Park is the third published novel by Jane Austen and was completed between February 1811 and 1813 while Austen was residing at Chawton Cottage. The novel details the life of its main heroine Fanny Price from childhood through to her eventual marriage with a close childhood friend.Mansfield Park was first published in May 1814 by Thomas Egerton, who also published Jane Austen's two earlier novels Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, in the two years prior to the third novel's publication. The publication of the novel was well-received by the public and a second edition was published in 1816 by John Murray still within Austen's lifetime. Murray then went on to also publish Austen's fourth novel Emma which was Austen's last published novel still within the author's lifetime.

First sip, smooth and elegant, with a bitter after-taste. Smell, sweet. Second sip, mind and body, with a strong will. I want more. Excitement becomes desire. A glass-full of her. First glass, not enough. Sweet desire, like her, like the wine. Glass by glass … I get drunk. I want to taste her body, I need the sweet alcohol that is her mind. I want to get drunk!

"The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar" is a short story by American author Edgar Allan Poe about a mesmerist who puts a man in a suspended hypnotic state at the moment of death. An example of a tale of suspense and horror, it is also, to a certain degree, a hoax, as it was published without claiming to be fictional, and many at the time of publication (1845) took it to be a factual account. Poe toyed with this for a while before admitting it was a work of pure fiction in his marginalia.

The world exist with a single goal to manipulate and trick your mind. To walk blindly in a predetermined road... You need courage and a strong will to pave your own path and make a difference that really matters. You need to fight in order to be able to fall asleep every night being at peace...

Far from the farthest, I landed into an alien land, Completely lost, desperate to survive. My resolution diluted in a day or two and all I could pray was a fast death. My pain was wondering as much as I were, It couldn't wake me up neither could break any more, I wasn't rock solid but a nutshell such hard that aspirations died and turned into ash. My forgiveness for an unknown source was irresponsive, much striken and desolate. Even the death didn't approach and life couldn't risk another game. Probably, too many fouls had crippled the intention to even stand by then. All I could do was search for a soul alike. Surprisingly, I found one. Such genuinity, optimism and reasons to prosper, made me gaze intuitively, while a blurry image sharpened to show myself a couple of years back. Yes, I had located my Infacy even in the fast paced rat race. While I so prone to run another mile for materialism, I forgot to exchange a glance with my long lost self. It was just a fraction of seconds when our eyes met and my alter-ego trembled, I don't know why!!! Perhaps, my past was undemanding, my present non-living and my future unforgiving.