What I Wanted To Do Was Slap

She Always Carried A Book, Though, In Case She Needed To Read A Few Pages To Avoid Unwanted Conversation.

What I'm Certain I Don't Want Is To Find Myself Someday In A New Century, An Old Bitter Woman Looking Back, Wishing That Right Now I'd Had More Nerve.

Disease Is Nature's Revenge For Our Destructiveness.

It's A Good Thing War Is So Terrible Or Else We'd Get To Liking It Too Much.

So Of Course Time Is Necessary. But Nevertheless Damn Painful, For It Transforms All The Pieces Of Your Life - Joy And Sorrow, Youth And Age, Love And Hate, Terror And Bliss - From Fire Into Smoke Rising Up The Air And Dissipating On A Breeze.