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I like the 11. It's a stylish number, slender, almost exquisite. I like the 11 in the double singularity, in its slender delicacy in his parallels tend to infinity. The once-stepping the number of outstanding disciple, rings hollow and vibration, smells clean, and when I go to pet him, is firm, completely delivered. It distributes himself in a fair and balanced: no doubt that the balance can not be given unselfish. Such is the honesty of 11, which parts are looking into his eyes and reflected more than in any other number: the one in the other one also.
I love the 11 because it does not end, because you know then come the others. Because there were 11 men who follow a bearded, nor 11 tribes. Because it does not appear in any Christian symbolism. Moreover, 11 evoked blindness and is the number of diopters that soon I will.
11 is the fifth prime number comes after 7 and before of 13, and they all love me too. It is also the third cousin of real Eisenstein, I do not know what it means but it reinforces the mathematical ignorance than I can boast.
In a football team play 11 players!
love 11 per issue, it is odd and not alone.
And above all, because 11 months are watching this love-you, what paradox do not know timing.
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