It Is Always The Best Friends Who

The Trade Of Authorship Is A Violent, And Indestructible Obsession.

I Would Rather Believe That God Did Not Exist Than Believe That He Was Indifferent.

I Was Born To Love - But None Of You Wanted To Believe It, And That Misunderstanding Was Crucial In Forming My Character. It's True That Nature Was Strangely Inconsistent In Giving Me A Warm Heart, But Also A Face That Was Like A Stone Mask And A Tongue That Was Heavy And Slow. She Refused Me What She Bestowed Freely On Even The Most Loutish Of My Fellow Men. . . . People Judged My Inner Character By My Outer Covering, And Like A Sterile Fruit, I Withered Under The Rough Husk I Couldn't Slough Off.

Whoever Has Loved Once, Knows All That Life Contains Of Sorrow And Of Joy.

Lying, Like License, Has Its Degrees.