You Set Fire To My House, Killed

Jericho Lay Back Down On His Side, Watching Her Breathe Just An Arm's Length From Him. She Was Not Beautiful While She Slept; Her Mouth Hung Open And She Snored Very Lightly, And This, Despite Everything That Had Happened, Made Him Smile.

Why Does Everyone Want To Own Me?" Pippa Mumbles. She's Got Her Head In Her Hands. "why Do They All Want To Control My Life -- How I Look, Whom I See, What I Do Or Don't Do? Why Can't They Just Let Me Alone?" "because You're Beautiful," Ann Answers, Watching The Fire Lick Her Palm. "people Always Think They Can Own Beautiful Things.

I Will Never, Ever Drink Whiskey Again. From Now On, It's Strictly Sherry.

We've Left The Moment. It's Gone. We're Somewhere Else Now, And That's Okay. We've Still Got That Moment With Us Somewhere, Deep In Our Memory, Seeping Into Our Dna. And When Our Cells Get Scattered , Whenever That Happens, This Moment Will Still Exist In Them. Those Cells Might Be The Biulding Block Of Something New. A Planet Or Star Or A Sunflower, A Baby. Maybe Even A Cockroach. Who Knows? Whatever It Is, It'll Be A Part Of Us, This Thing Right Here And Now, And We'll Be A Part Of It.

I Changed My Mind. I Don’t Want To Be An Inveshtigative Journalist Anymore. I Want To Be A Professional Rum Drinker.” “there Are People Who Do That,” Duff Said. He’d Barely Sipped His Rum. “really? What Do You Call Them?” “alcoholics.