Life Is Everything, And You Haven't Lived

I Would Love To Write A Mystery - A Romantic, Funny Mystery.

Now Let Me Teach You Another Thing About My Daughter. I Love Her Very Much But She Has The Ability To Hide As Expertly As A Sock In A Washing Machine. No One Knows Where It Goes, Just As No One Knows Where She Goes, But At Least When She Decides To Come Back, We're All Here, Waiting For Her.

I Guess When You’re Trying To Find All The Parts Of Yourself, It’s Difficult To Be With Someone Who’s Already Fully Intact.

I'm Most Happy When I Am Writing At Night, Because I Need Space And Time To Write.

Our Life Is Made Up Of Time; Our Days Are Measured In Hours, Our Pay Measured By Those Hours, Our Knowledge Is Measured By Years. We Grab A Few Quick Minutes In Our Busy Day To Have A Coffee Break. We Rush Back To Our Desks, We Watch The Clock, We Live By Appointments. And Yet Your Time Eventually Runs Out And You Wonder In Your Heart Of Hearts If Those Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, Years And Decades Were Being Spent The Best Way They Possibly Could. In Other Words, If You Could Change Anything, Would You?