I'm Such A Control Freak. I Want

She Was Considered Timid And Morose. Only In The Country, Her Skin Tanned By The Sun And Her Belly Full Of Ripe Fruit, Running Through The Fields With Pedro Tercero, Was She Smiling And Happy. Her Mother Said That That Was The Real Blanca, And That The Other One, The One Back In The City, Was A Blanca In Hibernation.

A Novel Is Achieved With Hard Work, The Short Story With Inspiration.

Twittering And Blogging And All That Is Fine, But There Is No Idea Of How To Phrase Something Beautifully; How To Use Language To Create An Emotion. It's Just Passing Information And Sometimes Very Superficial Information.

What I Fear Most Is Power With Impunity. I Fear Abuse Of Power, And The Power To Abuse.

You Spend The First Part Of Your Life Collecting Things ... And The Second Half Getting Rid Of Them.