My Big Fish Must Be Somewhere.

All Cowardice Comes From Not Truly Loving, Or At Least, Not Loving Well.

Perhaps Wars Weren't Won Anymore. Maybe They Went On Forever. Maybe It Was Another Hundred Years' War.

The Best Writing Is Certainly When You Are In Love

For Her Everything Was Red, Orange, Gold-red From The Sun On The Closed Eyes, And It All Was That Color, All Of It, The Filling, The Possessing, The Having, All Of That Color, All In A Blindness Of That Color." - Ernest Hemingway.

It Was Like Certain Dinners I Remember From The War. There Was Much Wine, An Ignored Tension, And A Feeling Of Things Coming That You Could Not Prevent Happening. Under The Wine I Lost The Disgusted Feeling And Was Happy. It Seemed They Were All Such Nice People.