Who Can Judge Another Man's Suffering?

Writing Mirrors The Interior Self. You Know, Any Book Is Like The Perfect Blueprint Of The Psyche Of The Author.

I'm A Fish Swimming By...catch Me If You Want Me.

We Read So That We Can Be Moved By A New Way Of Looking At Things.

She Kissed Me On The Mouth. Her Mouth Tasted Like Iced Coffee And Cardamom, And I Was Overwhelmed By The Taste, Her Hot Skin And The Smell Of Unwashed Hair. I Was Confused, But Not Unwilling. I Would Have Let Her Do Anything To Me.

A Cliche Is Like A Coin That Has Been Handled Too Much. Once Language Has Been Overly Handled, It No Longer Leaves A Clear Imprint.