A Novel Is Like A Dream In

Girls Were Born Knowing How Destructive The Truth Could Be. They Learned To Hold It In, Tamp It Down, Like Gunpowder In An Old Fashioned Gun. Then It Exploded In Your Face On A November Day In The Rain.

Love's An Illusion. It's A Dream You Wake Up From With An Enormous Hangover And Net Credit Debt. I'd Rather Have Cash.

I Wanted To Tell Her Not To Entertain Despair Like This. Despaire Wasn't A Guest, You Didn't Play Its Favorite Music, Find It A Comfortable Chair. Despair Was The Enemy." -white Oleander

When You Started Thinking It Was Easy, You Were Forgetting What It Cost.

Purification In Fire. Public Cremation