No Guest Rooms.” I Shake My Head

But That's The Problem With Love - It Acts On You, Works Through You, Resists Your Attempts To Control.

But If You Do Believe, Then You Already Know All About Magic.

I Said, I Prefer The Ocean When It's Gray. Or Not Really Gray. A Pale, In-between Color. It Reminds Me Of Waiting For Something Good To Happen.

The Reason You Can Never Go Home Again Isn't Necessarily That Places Change, But People Do. So Nothing Ever Looks The Same.

Everyone Just Wasting Time Because They Have So Much Of It To Waste, Minutes Slipping By On Who's With Who And Did You Hear.