You Have To Trust Or You're Only

He Wanted To Heave The Glasses Against The Wall. Break Them, Break Everything He Could Reach. Beat It, Rend It. He Stared Out The Window, Imagined The City In Flames, Consumed To Ashes. And Still It Wasn't Enough.

His Mind’s Always On Something Else. He’d Live In A Ratty Cardigan, And He’s Always Worrying Holes In The Pockets Of His Pants. He Can Never Seem To Find His Wallet Or Anything In The Refrigerator. And Just When You Think He’s Not Paying Any Attention To What You’re Saying Or Doing, He Comes Up With Exactly The Right Answer Or Solution.”", [j.d. Robb, Celebrity In Death"“people""who Expect Perfection In A Mate Miss A Lot Of Fun—and Sweetness.", [j.d. Robb, Celebrity In Death]

Mary Stewart Will Always Be My Goddess. I Can Pick Up One Of Her Early Books - One I've Read A Dozen Times - And Still Slide Right Into The Story.

The Man Was Useless As Tits On A Bull, But He Didn't Deserve To Die Like That.

He Pulled Himself Out Of Hard Times, Dealt With The Scars From It, Pushed Himself To Make A Mark. A Little Bit Of The Wild Side There, Always. I Told Myself, Oh No, I Won't Get Tangled Up With This One. And I Said It Again, Even When I Was Tangled Up.