What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Funnier.

Failed Relationships Can Be Described As So Much Wasted Makeup. Forget The Laughs, Forget The Fights, Forget The Sex, Forget The Jealousy. But Take Off Your Hat And Observe A Moment's Silence For The Legions Of Unknown Tubes Of Foundation, Mascara, Eyeliner, Blusher And Lipstick Who Died That It Might All Have Been Possible. But Who Died In Vain.

It Was Only When The Salt Water Of My Tears Ran Into My Cuts And Made Them Sting That I Discovered I Was Crying.

Why Do We Have Such A Finite Capacity For Pleasure But An Infinite One For Pain?

Although Will Never Love Anyone Again, Don't Want To Become Bitter. Or Creative.

They Say The Path Of True Love Never Runs Smooth. Well, Luke And My True Love's Path Didn't Run At All, It Limped Along In New Boots That Were Chafing Its Heels. Blistered And Cut, Red And Raw, Every Hopping, Lopsided Step, A Little Slice Of Agony.