From Our First Babblings To Our Last

Such Fickle Days Of Love When Pain And Ecstasy Share The Same Hour

Procrastinatio N Is The Thief Of Dreams

I Have Learned That Real Angels Don't Have Gossamer White Robes And Cherubic Skin, They Have Calloused Hands And Smell Of The Days' Sweat.

Books Are The Most Tolerant Of Friends.

Those Willing To Trade Freedom For Certainty Are Certain To Find The Cure Worse Than The Ailment.