The Process Of Giving Is Without Limits.

My Heroes And Heroines Are Often Unlikely People Who Are Dragged Into Situations Without Meaning To Become Involved, Or People With A Past That Has Never Quite Left Them. They Are Often Isolated, Introspective People, Often Confrontational Or Anarchic In Some Way, Often Damaged Or Secretly Unhappy Or Incomplete.

She Always Had That About Her, That Look Of Otherness, Of Eyes That See Things Much Too Far, And Of Thoughts That Wander Off The Edge Of The World.

Wine Talks; Ask Anyone. The Oracle At The Street Corner; The Uninvited Guest At The Wedding Feast; The Holy Fool. It Ventriloquizes. It Has A Million Voices. It Unleashes The Tongue, Teasing Out Secrets You Never Meant To Tell, Secrets You Never Even Knew. It Shouts, Rants, Whispers. It Speaks Of Great Plans, Tragic Loves, And Terrible Betrayals. It Screams With Laughter. It Chuckles Softly To Itself. It Weeps In Front Of Its Own Reflection. It Revives Summers Long Past And Memories Best Forgotten. Every Bottle A Whiff Of Other Times, Other Places, Everyone...a Humble Miracle

It's A Feeling Which Tells Me That Any Woman Can Be Beautiful In The Eyes Of A Man Who Loves Her.

Remember, It's The Winners Write The History Books, And The Losers Get The Leavings.