"Waiting is a dry desert between where we are and where we want to be. (Finding My Way Home)"

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From that day on, it was the desert that would be important. She would look to it everyday, and would try to guess which star the boy was following in search of his treasure. She would have to send her kisses on the wind hoping that the wind would touch the boy's face, and would tell him that she was alive.

— Paulo Coelho