How Disturbing It Is That Our Illusions

If Jealousy Was The Vindaloo Of Love, I'd Imagined Her Tongue Burning, And Such A Fire Forcing Her To Spill Her Truth.

Love Cannot Be Measured By Its Duration.

Falling In Love Was Simple; One Had Only To Yield. Digesting Another Person, However, And Sustaining Love, Was Bloody Work, And Not A Soft Job.

If You Want Something Badly Enough, You Make Arrangements. If You Don't Want It Badly Enough, You Make Excuses.

The Vocation Of Each Writer Is To Describe The World As He Or She Sees It; Anything More Than That Is Advertising.