I Like The Fact That Kids Are

Bitter Is A Bad Way To Live!

He Looked At The Piles Of Food Again, And It Was Like He Was Seeing It With New Eyes. This Is Wrong, He Thought. Letting Food Rot While People Die Of Hunger. It's Evil.

I Wish, Peevishly, That He Didn't Know Anything About How Soldiers Sleep, How They Protect Their Fellow Soldiers. It Would Be Nicer If I Could Share The Cloaks Warmth With Him, If We Could Lie With Our Faces Together, Whispering Into The Night.

When Writing Isn't Going Well-then The Bad Thing About Being A Writer Is That I Also Have The Freedom And Flexibility To Do Something Badly, And No One Else Can Fix It For Me.

I Wished I'd Known Weeks Ago That We Didn't Have To Be Chaperoned. I Remembered My Old Daydreams: The Prince And I, Alone Together, Cuddling And Whispering... I Probably Would Have Wised Up And Brocken The Engagement Sooner.