““When we say, 'it is well,' it is actually the hovering bird with no sense of direction on how to feed her chicks. The fear tears the heart of the lion if his meal will ever appear. It is the flower at the mercy of the sleeping sun. The lonely mountain without a climber. Sometimes, it is the strength envisage even when the night falls. The tears of a helpless lost soul... it is saying to my soul, "It is well".””
