Living Was No Longer The Grief Behind

It Is Not Death That Kills Us, But Life. We Are Done To Death By Life.

Writing Is Agony For Me. I Work At It Eight Hours Every Day, Hoping To Get Six Pages, But I Am Satisfied With Three.

Now He Understood. This Was Death. Death Was A Silence That Gave Back No Answer.

Words Began Fights And Words Ended Them.

A Woman Has Got To Love A Bad Man Once Or Twice In Her Life, To Be Thankful For A Good One.