The rain is falling ever harder and all I can hear is the sound of the water. I'm drenched but I can't move.

Love like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots keeping itself alive.

This may sound a little bit idealistic, but when I go to my blog, my Facebook page, my Twitter account, I talk to different people from all over the world, and you see how it's easy to establish a dialogue.

Wouldn't it be nice if there weree a planet where the sound of rain falling is like Bach?" he says.
"Yes, Planet Bach," I respond.
He smiles -"Yes", he murmurs- picturing it, hearing it.

You don't need to climb a mountain to know that it's high.

Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.