We Hate Most In Others What We

Twenty-three Stories Up And All I Could See Out The Windows Was Grey Smog. They Could Call It The City Of The Angels If They Wanted To, But If There Were Angels Out There, They Had To Be Flying Blind.

Who Is The Love Of My Life? Maybe I Don't Have One. Maybe It's Not Love At All. But If It's Not Love, Then What Is It? I Wish I Knew.

I Try To Be A Good Cop. I Try To Be A Good Little Soldier And Follow Orders Up To A Point. But In The End I’m Not Really A Cop, Or A Soldier. I Am A Legally Sanctioned Murderer. I Am The Executioner.

Put Any Woman In An Area Run Mostly By Men And Rumors Will Fly. Unless You Make It Very Clear That You Are Off Limits, There Is Also A Certain Competitiveness That Sets In. Some Men Are Either Trying To Run You Out Of Town Or Get Into Your Pants. They Don't Seem To Know Any Other Way To Deal With A Woman. If You're Not A Sexual Object, You're A Threat.

It Is A Very Natural Human Trait To Destroy That Which Frightens Us.