You Left Me. You Made A Pet

I Can Offer You My Life, But It Is A Short Life; I Can Offer You My Heart, Though I Have No Idea How Many More Beats It Shall Sustain

Did You Like It?" He Said. "i Could Have Given You...jewelry, But I Wanted It To Be Something That Was Wholly Yours. That No One Else Would Hear Or Own. And I Am Not Good With Words, So I Wrote How I Felt About You In Music." He Paused. "did You Like It?

No, I'm Just A Very Naughty Boy. I Do All Sorts Of Bad Things. I Kick Kittens. I Make Rude Gestures At Nuns.

Jem Leaned Closer Against The Chair, Staring Into The Fire. “better It Were My Hands,” He Said. Will Shook His Head. Exhaustion Was Muting The Edges Of Everything In The Room, Blurring The Flocked Wallpaper Into A Single Mass Of Dark Color. “no. Not Your Hands. You Need Your Hands For The Violin. What Do I Need Mine For?

It Has Been The Privilege And The Honor Of My Life To Know You.