True Love. I’m Starting To Suspect The

I've Given Him More Mixed Signals Than A Dyslexic Morse Code Operator.

I Don’t Know What Boldness Came Over Me, But The Resolute Heaviness Of Dash’s Demeanor Threatened To Crush My Soul. My Pinky Finger Crept Over And Nestled Against His, For Comfort. Like A Magnet, His Pinky Finger Latched Onto And Intertwined With Mine. I Like Magnets A Whole Lot.

One Of The Failures Of Cellular Communication Is That Tiredness Often Comes Across As Sadness.

When Is The Night Over? Is It The Start Of Sunrise Or The End Of It? Is It When You Finally Go To Sleep Or Simply When You Realize That You Have To?

She Told Me If I Clean All The Ashes Out Of The Grate, Then I’ll Be Able To Help My Sisters Get Ready For The Bal.” “it’s Christmas, Dashiel. Can’t You Give That Atitude A Rest?” “merry Christmas, Dad. And Thanks For The Presents.” “what Presents?” “i’m Sorry—those Were All From Mom, Weren’t They?