The Closest I Can Get To Describing

I Have Been Loved, Edward Told The Stars. So? Said The Stars. What Difference Does That Make When You Are All Alone Now?

I Love Words; I Love The Way They Sound. Once I've Worked On Everything Else, The Last Drafts Of My Books Come Down To How They Sound.

I'm Predisposed To Think That As A People, We're Hardwired To Understand Things Through The Telling Of Stories. I Think That As Human Beings It's Part Of Who We Are.

Mr. And Mrs. Mr. And Mrs. Watson Love Mercy [watson]. Eugenia Hates Mercy. Baby Likes Mercy. Mercy Loves Toast. And The Plot, If You Want To Be So Generous As To Call It A Plot, Turns On Those Elements. Love Mercy. Eugenia Hates Mercy. Baby Likes Mercy. Mercy Loves Toast. And The Plot, If You Want To Be So Generous As To Call It A Plot, Turns On Those Elements.

There Are Hearts, Reader, That Never Mend Again Once They Are Broken. Or If They Do Mend, They Heal Themselves In A Crooked And Lopsided Way, As If Sewn Together By A Careless Craftsman.