It Is Difficult To See A Situation

You Send Me All These Roses. Every Time I Think The Last Bouquet Has Arrived, Finally, Another Turns Up. I’m Running Out Of Vases. I Didn’t Know Roses Came In So Many Colors. You Say They’re The Perfect Symbols Of Love Because They Have Thorns And Love Is Pain. I Say Life Is Pain, Highness. Anyone Who Says Differently Is Selling Something. And You Don’t Get It. You Say You Love Me, But You Don’t Speak My Language. You Don’t Even Realize I’m An Orchid Girl.

I Binge Write. I Think It's Because I Started Seriously Writing By Participating In National Novel Writing Month, An Online-based Challenge To Write 50,000 Words In 30 Days.

He Reads Histories And Mythologies And Fairy Tales, Wondering Why It Seems That Only Girls Are Ever Swept Away From Their Mundane Lives On Farms By Knights Or Princes Or Wolves. It Strikes Him As Unfair To Not Have The Same Fanciful Opportunity Himself. And He Is Not In The Position To Do Any Rescuing Of His Own.

To Be Rather Than To Seem.

So Proper For A Circus Girl," Mme. Padva Says With With A Gleam In Her Eye. "we Shall Have To Loosen Those Corset Laces If We Intend To Keep You An Intimate Dinner Company." "i Expected The Corset Unlacing Would Take Place After Dinner," Celia Says Mildly, Earning A Chorus Of Laughter. "we Shall Keep Miss Bowen As Intimate Company Regardless Of The State Of Her Corset," Chandresh Says. "make A Note Of That," He Adds, Waving A Hand At Marco. "miss Bowen's Corset Is Duly Noted, Sir," Marco Replies, And The Laghter Bubbles Over The Table Again.