There Is No Greater Power On This

She Loved Attention. It Was Like A Glass Of The Best Champagne—bubbly And Intoxicating—and As With Champagne, She Always Wanted More Of It. Still, She Didn’t Want To Seem Like An Easy Mark. “if You Must Know, I’ve Come To Join A Convent,” Evie Said, Testing Him.

We Create The Illusions We Need To Go On.

Maybe Girls Need An Island To Find Themselves. Maybe They Need A Place Where No One's Is Watching Them So They Can Be Who They Really Are

Hey,” The Cabbie Yelled. “how’s About A Tip?” “you Bet-ski,” Evie Said, Heading Toward The Old Victorian Mansion, Her Long Silk Scarf Trailing Behind Her. “don’t Kiss Strange Men In Penn Station.

Did God Ever Cry Over His Lost Angel, I Wonder?