And count their youthful follies o'er, Till Memory lends her light no more. When you automate life you steal the intellectual muscles that grow when you have to do the grunt work that precedes accomplishment. A sweet and tasty treat. Love once felt is long remembered. The hurt of love scorned is dissipated only by time.
Reason lacks the power.
Therefore rush by time, the hurt is overpowering me, occupying my time, my thoughts and depriving me of happiness. If two people always agree, one of them is not necessary. As the chase began the ending was as certain as sunrise. The victim straining her utmost, to elude, deceive, surprise. And the victim turned, eyes meeting pursuer's intently.