... Scarred By Wisdom She'd Never Asked

I Loved This Woman The Way You Love ... Well, Nothing," He Said, A Note Of Suprise In His Voice. "you Can’t Compare That Kind Of Love To Anything, Can You? It’s Its Own Unique Gift.

The Ornament Of Beauty, Shakespeare Wrote, Is Suspect. And He Was Right. But Beauty Itself, Unadorned And Unaffected, Is Sacred, I Think, Worthy Of Our Awe And Our Loyalty.

Or Maybe I'd Do What I Always Do - Hang Out And See What Develops. Fatalist To The Core.

He Wondered If This Was What Clinical Depression Felt Like, A Total Numbness, A Weary Lack Of Hope.

It's Very Simple. If You Learn How To Write Well, To Write With Depth, Cream Will Rise To The Top. You'll Get Published. But, There Is No Secret.