There Is No Single Face In Nature,

She Was Saving Up Feelings For Some Man She Had Never Seen.

Sometimes, I Feel Discriminated Against, But It Does Not Make Me Angry. It Merely Astonishes Me. How Can Any Deny Themselves The Pleasure Of My Company? It's Beyond Me.

Perhaps, It Is Just As Well To Be Rash And Foolish For A While. If Writers Were Too Wise, Perhaps No Books Would Be Written At All. It Might Be Better To Ask Yourself "why?" Afterwards Than Before. Anyway, The Force From Somewhere In Space Which Commands You To Write In The First Place, Gives You No Choice. You Take Up The Pen When You Are Told, And Write What Is Commanded. There Is No Agony Like Bearing An Untold Story Inside You.

There Is A Basin In The Mind Where Words Float Around On Thought And Thought On Sound And Sight. Then There Is A Depth Of Thought Untouched By Words, And Deeper Still A Gulf Of Formless Feelings Untouched By Thought.

Nothing That God Ever Made Is The Same Thing To More Than One Person.