When I Started As A Writer, I

Ecstasy And Vulnerability Belonged In The Same Dish. The Fear The Cup Would Be Snatched Away Was What Gave The Wine Its Savor.

A Rose By Any Other Name Would Get The Blame For Being What It Is-- The Colour Of A Kiss, The Shadow Of A Flame. A Rose May Earn Another Name, So Call It Love; So Call It Love I Will, And Love Is Like The Sea, Which Changes Constantly, And Yet Is Still The Same.

Danger And Anger Are Everywhere. Love Is The Rarity, The Gem Buried In The Core Of The Mine, The Outpost Of God.

People Are Always The Start For Meanimals. When I Can Get Into Their Heads, Gods, Supernatural Beings,immortals, The Deadthese Are All People To Me.

It's Lovely. I Hate It.