The Wounded Recognized The Wounded.

How's It Going Down There?" "it's Weird. They're Too Polite, They Talk Funny, And Stuff Has Too Much Shine On It. But The Coffee's Worse Than Central's, So That's Something.

Alone In Her Shelter, She Allowed Herself Tears. When Her Shelter Cooled To The Touch She Called To Gull, “coming Out!” She Eased Her Head Out Into The Smoky Air, Looked Over At Gull. She Imaged They Both Looked Like A Couple Of Sweaty, Parboiled Turtles Climbing Out Of Their Shells. “hello, Gorgeous.” She Laughed. It Hurt Her Throat, But She Laughed. “hey, Handsome.

Anyone That Has Character Leaves A Mark On Another. Would You Like To Leave The World Without Making A Ripple?

Maybe You Could Casually Mention To Zoe That I'm Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been, An Axe Murderer." "i'll See If I Can Work It Into Our Next Conversation," Flynn Promised.

The Man That Put That Hurt Look In Your Eyes, Could Be Worth Everything, Or Nothing At All.