I Can Only Tell My Story, What

Dare I Say I Miss Him? I Do. I Miss Him. I Still See Him In My Dreams. They Are Nightmares Mostly, But Nightmares Tinged With Love. Such Is The Strangeness Of The Human Heart.

I Can Only Tell My Story, What You Believe Is Up To You.

I Turned Around, Stepped Over The Zebra And Threw Myself Overboard.

He's A Shy Man. Life Has Taught Him Not To Show Off What Is Most Precious To Him.

People Always Seek To Compare. They Can Take The New, But Only If It Is Somehow Connected To The Familiar. We Need That In Our Lives, The Mix Of The New And The Old. But Of Course I'm Flattered About The Comparison With Old Man And The Sea. Hemingway Is A Great Writer.