Men Didn't Respect Beauty...they Used It.

He Looked Around When He Heard A Window-rattling Roar. "earthquake? Volcano? Nuclear War?" "beaver," Peter Told Him. "i Don't Care If It Is Alaska, You Don't Have Beavers Big Enough To Sound Like That.

Why?” He Tilted His Head. “that’s A Tricky One. Could It Be Your Serenity, Your Quiet Manner, Your Flawless Fashion Sense?” It Did His Heart Good To See Her Quick, Amused Grin. “no, I Must Be Thinking Of Someone Else. It Must Be Your Courage, Your Absolute Dedication To Balancing Scales, That Restless Mind, And That Sweet Corner Of Your Heart That Pushes You To Care So Much About So Many.” “that’s Not Me.” “oh, But It Is You, Darling Eve.

Survivors Lived With Their Mistakes.

When I Left, It Was For You. Coming Back Was For You. There’s Nothing You Can Say, Nothing You Can Do That Would Make Me Leave You Again.

I Don't Let Myself Believe In Writer's Block. I Feel Very Strongly Writing Is Habit As Much As An Art Or A Craft. And If You Write Crap, You're Still Writing.