Are Those The Only Options? Nothing Or

Needing Was So Easy: It Came Naturally, Like Breathing. Being Needed By Someone Else, Though, That Was The Hard Part. But As With Giving Help And Accepting It, We Had To Do Both To Be Made Complete-like Links Overlapping To Form A Chain, Or A Lock Finding The Right Key.

But I'd Long Ago Learned Not To Be Picky In Farewells. They Weren't Guaranteed Or Promised. You Were Lucky, More Than Blessed, If You Got A Good-bye At All.

This Was Our Common Ground, The Secret We Shared But Never Spoke Aloud.

"which Is Completely Out-of-line Behavior. Then You Are Wholly Within Your Rights To Stomp On Their Foot." "no," Delia Said, Over Her Shoulder. "actually, You're Not. Just Excuse Yourself As Politely As Possible, And Get Out Of Arm's Reach." Kristy Looked At Me, Shaking Her Head. "stomp Them." She Said, Under Her Breath. "really."

I Don't Talk About My Books While I'm Writing Them: Not Even My Husband Knows What A Novel's About Until It's Done.