There Are Few Things As Nauseating As

This Is The Nature Of Love." Vashet Said. "to Attempt To Describe It Will Drive A Woman Mad. This Is What Keeps Poets Scribbling Endlessly Away. If One Could Pin It To Paper All Complete, The Others Would Lay Down Their Pens. But It Cannot Be Done.

Simmon Pushed His Hair Out Of His Eyes, Laughing Boyishly. "you Can't Argue Your Way Out Of This One! She's Obviously Stupid For You. And You're Just Plain Stupid, So It's A Great Match.

By Your Logic I Should Also Be In Charge Of Solinade Dances, Needlework, And Horse Thieving.

It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

Appearance Is A Type Of Power.