I Still Write In Long Hand. I

There Is Such A Thing As Too Much Beauty In A Woman And It Is Often A Burden As Crippling As Homeliness And Far More Dangerous. It Takes Much Luck And Integrity To Survive The Gift Of Perfect Beauty, And Its Impermanence Is Its Most Cunning Betrayal.

My Attraction To Story Is A Ceaseless Current That Runs Through The Center Of Me. My Inexhaustible Ardor For Reading Seems Connected To My Hunger For Storylines That Show Up In Both Books And In The Great Tumbling Chaos Of Life.

Teach Them The Quiet Words Of Kindness, To Live Beyond Themselves. Urge Them Toward Excellence, Drive Them Toward Gentleness, Pull Them Deep Into Yourself, Pull Them Upward Toward Manhood, But Softly Like An Angel Arranging Clouds. Let Your Spirit Move Through Them Softly.

I Was The Only Person In The World Who Thought It Was A Military Duty To Appear To Be In A Good Mood.

Losing Prepares You For The Heartbreak, Setback, And The Tragedy That You Will Encounter In The World More Than Winning Ever Can. By Licking Your Wounds You Learn How To Avoid Getting Wounded The Next Time.