Hesitation Will Get You Killed.

He Was Twenty. I Remembered Twenty. I'd Known Everything At Twenty. It Took Me Another Year To Realize I Knew Nothing. I Was Still Hoping To Learn Something Before I Hit Thirty, But I Wasn't Holding My Breath.

Most Hatred Is Based On Fear, One Way Or Another. Yeah. I Wrapped Myself In Anger, With A Dash Of Hate, And At The Bottom Of It All Was An Icy Center Of Pure Terror.

Everyone Has Their Weaknesses. Some People Smoke. I Collect Stuffed Penguins. If You Won't Tell, I Won't.

My Writing Style Is Very Sensual, As In Sensory Detail

I Stared At Jean-claude And It Wasn't The Beauty Of Him That Made Me Love Him, It Was Just Him. It Was Love Made Up Of A Thousand Touches, A Million Conversations, A Trillion Shared Looks. A Love Made Up Of Danger Shared, Enemies Conquered, A Determination To Neither Of Us Would Change The Other, Even If We Could. I Love Jean-claude, All Of Him, Because If I Took Away The Machiavellian Plottings, The Labyrinth Of His Mind, It Would Lessen Him, Make Him Someone Else.