I Used To Be A Child. It

The Peculiar Striations That Define Someone's Personality Are Too Numerous To Know, No Matter How Close The Observer. A Person We Think We Know Can Suddenly Become Someone Else When Previously Hidden Strands Of His Character Are Called To The Fore By Circumstance.

You Don't Need To Be Seeing Someone To Be In Love With Her. You Can Have Lost Touch With Her, She Can Have Hurt You, Even Inexplicably. If You Ever Felt That You Really Knew Her And That It Was What You Knew That You Loved, And If You Remember What It Was You Once Knew, Why Is It So Crazy To Retain That Love Still?

You Were Trying To Tell Me Something And I Was Trying To Tell You Something Else. We Didn't Trust Each Other And That Was Reason Enough To Make Each Of Us Right.

Being An Insomniac Only Slows Me Down. I Try Not To Write At Night, As I'm Concerned That This Will Affect The Quality.

You Know You're In Love With Somebody When You Wake Up Next To Them, Comfortable Despite Your Breath Smelling Like The Week-old Water At The Bottom Of A Vase, When You Are Terribly Excited To See Them, To Talk To Them Again, Having Missed Them After All That Sleep.