sabato 8 gennaio 2011


Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?
Then you love me?
I suppose I do
And I suppose I love you too
It doesn't change a thing
But even so
After twenty-five years
It's nice to know”

Fiddler on the roof

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