I Figured If I Told It To

Sometimes I'm Not Nice For A Reason. It's A Way To Find Out What Someone's Made Of.

He Never Knew What Hit Him, And That Would Have Comforted Me, Except . . . Just For One Second, He Would Have Had To Know, Wouldn't He? There Must Have Been A Blur, A Sense Of The World Exploding, A Flashpoint Of Receiving More Damage Than A Human Body Could Endure.

A Slow Smile Began On Gideon's Face, And His Blue Eyes Sparkled. With A Shake Of His Head, He Put His Hand On His Chest, As If The Sight Of Her Was More Than His Heart Could Bear.

And You're Not The Kind Of Girl I Want." Surely He Couldn't Mean The Fact That I Was Mexican. From What I Knew Of Hardy, There Wasn't A Bit Of Prejudice In Him. He Never Used Racist Words, Never Looked Down On Someone For Things They Couldn't Help. "what Kind Do You Want?" I Asked With Difficulty. "someone I Can Leave Without Looking Back.

I Reflected That For All The People You Lost Touch With Or Couldn't Hold On To, Life Occasionally Made Up For It By Giving You The Right Person At The Right Time.