A Writer Wastes Nothing.

Something Was Making Him Nibble At The Edge Of Stale Ideas As If His Sturdy Physical Egotism No Longer Nourished His Peremptory Heart.

It's Not A Slam At You When People Are Rude, It's A Slam At The People They've Met Before.

Hard To Sit Here And Be Close To You, And Not Kiss You.

Never Confuse A Single Defeat With A Final Defeat.

She Was Beautiful - But Especially She Was Without Mercy.