I Suppose I Was Dying Again, So

I Love You, I Know This Must Come As Something Of A Surprise, Since All I’ve Ever Done Is Scorn You And Degrade You And Taunt You, But I Have Loved You For Several Hours Now, And Every Second, More. I Thought An Hour Ago That I Loved You More Than Any Woman Has Ever Loved A Man, But A Half Hour After That I Knew That What I Felt Before Was Nothing Compared To What I Felt Then. But Ten Minutes After That, I Understood That My Previous Love Was A Puddle Compared To The High Seas Before A Storm.

Death Cannot Stop True Love. All It Can Do Is Delay It For A While.

The Duchess Set About Studying Annette And Shortly Found Her Adversary's Tragic Flaw. Chocolate.

Writing Is Finally About One Thing: Going Into A Room Alone And Doing It. Putting Words On Paper That Have Never Been There In Quite That Way Before. And Although You Are Physically By Yourself, The Haunting Demon Never Leaves You, That Demon Being The Knowledge Of Your Own Terrible Limitations, Your Hopeless Inadequacy, The Impossibility Of Ever Getting It Right. No Matter How Diamond-bright Your Ideas Are Dancing In Your Brain, On Paper They Are Earthbound.

When I Left You, You Were Already More Beautiful Than Anything I Dared To Dream. In Our Years Apart, My Imaginings Did Their Best To Improve On Your Perfection. At Night, Your Face Was Forever Behind My Eyes. And Now I See That That Vision Who Kept Me Company In My Loneliness Was A Hag Compared To The Beauty Now Before Me.