What If We Knew What Tomorrow Would

People Tell Stories And It's Up To Those Who Listen Whether To Believe Or Not." "shouldn't The Storyteller Believe It." "the Storyteller Should Tell It.

I Can’t Even Think About What Life “could Have Been” Like In Boston, Without Crying. It’s Like Deja-vu, I Don’t Think Me And Boston Were Ever Meant To Be.

Most Of All She Loved That When She Hugged Him Her Head Would Rest Neatly Just Below His Chin, Where She Could Feel His Breath Lightly Blowing Her Hair And Tickling Her Head.

There Were Hundreds Of Them Spread Across The Floor, Each Telling Its Own Tale Of Triumph Or Sadness, Each Letter Representing A Phase In Her Life. She Had Kept Them All.

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