I Don't Have A Master. I'm Not

I've Lost Track Of The Number Of People Who Want To Be Writers But Never Actually Write Anything. Talking About Writing, Dreaming About Writing, Can Be Very Fun, But It Won't Get A Book Written. You've Got To Write

If You Think Love Makes You Happy, You've Either Never Been In Love, Or Never Been In Love Long Enough To Have To Start Compromising.

A Person Likes To Think Of Himself In A Certain Way, And When Something Happens That Makes That No Longer Possible, You Mourn The Old Self. The Person You Thought You Were.

It Always Amazes Me How Many Women Like Dangerous Men. Men Who Almost From The Moment You Meet Them, You Know Are Bad News. Me, I Prefer My Men Kinder, Gentler, Nice. Niceness Is Highly Underrated By Most People.

You Ask Yourself "what Is Love? Am I In Love?", When What You Should Be Asking Is, "what Is Not Love?", Ma Petite. What Is It That This Man Does For You That Is Not Done Out Of Love?