Patience is a kind of love. A love that is its own explanation in bewildered circumstance. It is an old, old woman placing a wrinkled-parchment hand against the cheek of a reckless child. Because her heart is too wise to make room for reproach. Too full to find place for offense.

Sometimes its so hard to be patient especially when all seem to go the wrong way n everyone seems to be succeeding apart from you. Never ever loose hope because at that point when ur almost giving up something great is bound to happen. Just as an old person need all the care and attention so does a patient person. Things may be tough and all may seem lost but patience does make everything count. 

It just need a little faith, alot of perseverence and all the patience and everything will fal into place.