You Have To Do Something Bad To

The Mistakes I've Made Are Dead To Me. But I Can't Take Back The Things I Never Did.

He Removed Several Pages Of Death Certificates, Which Were Picked Up By Another Breeze And Sent Into The Trees. Some Would Fall With The Leaves That September. Some Would Fall With The Trees Generations Later.

The Question, I've Come To Think, Is Not What Inspires One To Change, But What Inspires One To Remain Changed.

What Were We Spending So Much Time Doing If Not Getting To Know Each Other?

With Writing, We Have Second Chances.