Better To Lose Oneself In Action Than

I Write What I'd Like To Read And Just Hope That, Along The Way, Others Might Like To Read Them, Too.

Gerry?' Laurel Had To Strain To Hear Thought The Noise On The Other End Of The Line. 'gerry? Where Are You?' 'london. A Phone Booth On Fleet Street.' 'the City Still Has Working Phone Booths?' 'it Would Appear So. Unless This Is The Tardis, In Which Case I'm In Serious Trouble.

She Was The Breeze On A Summer's Day, The First Drops Of Rain When The Earth Was Parched, Light From The Evening Star.

I Sound Contemptuous, But I Am Not. I Am Interested--intrigued Even--by The Way Time Erases Real Lives, Leaving Only Vague Imprints. Blood And Spirit Fade Away So That Only Names And Dates Remain.

Rejection Is A Cancer, Edie. It Eats Away At A Person.