If I Can Make You Unhappy, Then

Phillip Look Into Ray's Eyes. He Saw Compassion And Hope. And He Saw Himself Mirrored Back, Bleeding In A Dirty Gutter On A Street Where Life Was Worth Less Than A Dime Bag. Sick, Tired, Petrified, Phillip Dropped His Head Into His Hands. "what's The Point?" "you're The Point, Son." Ray Ran His Hand Over Phillip's Hair. "you're The Point.

Dolls Are Like Small Dead People.

You're The Love Of My Life. I Don't Care How Corny That Sounds. You're The Start Of It, And The End Of It. And You're The Best Of It.

You Are Wise As Well As Short." "i Can Also Break Bricks With My Bare Hands." "that's A Handy Skill If You Ever Find Yourself Walled Up In The Basement Of An Abandoned House By A Psychopath.

The Wounded Recognized The Wounded.