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The only self-help book that allowed to tell me what to do.

A work of poetry about the wind and what it takes with it.

Poetry by Betty and Thomy Il passe sans attendre personne Rapprochant les uns, Eloignant les autres; Ses raisons sont sans doute bonnes... Guérissant certaines blessures En apportant des réponses, Son fil est une drôle de mesure Quelquefois porteur de chance. Parfait en lui-même Il s’auto-complète, Nous comble de nos pertes; Nul n’en reste indemne. Il nous rappelle toujours combien Étant limité, il nous est compté. Une loi stricte que nul n’enfreint, Cycle incessant au coeur

At the rise of fame, Gwynplaine shamelessly chose his dignity.

Starting the year on a positive note, My Wish for You is that you bloom.

An ode to the moon in the most romantic language

An ode to this beautiful vessel of flesh. Have you hugged yourself today?

Not quite like the mormons, somehow more entertaining.

A scandal that almost wrecked a happy (happy?) family. But what did we really expect from Marc-Antoine?

Women give life, women teach, women guide, women live, women love.

What if? What if... your neighbour had it worse?

I'd like to see it as a murder for some Louboutins, but the purists would probably stone me.