The Moon Is Always Jealous Of The

Unrequited Love Is So Boring. Weeping Under A Blue-black Sky Is For Suckers Or Maniacs.

Being Human Means Losing Everything We Love Best In The World," She Murmured As She Released Me. "but Would You Ask To Be Anything Else?

He Started To Look At Me In A Manner I Recognized: It Was The Way I Looked At A New Book, One I Had Never Read Before, One That Surprised Me With All It Had To Say.

It's Not Finding What's Lost, It's Understanding What You've Found.

It Was As Though I Had One Map Inside My Head And It Led To The Man Who Was Waiting For Me. Someone Who Was Alone - Maybe Even More Alone - Than I Was.