You Never Understand Anybody That Loves You.

There Is No Left And Right In Writing. There Is Only Good And Bad Writing.

You May Talk. And I May Listen. And Miracles Might Happen.

The Clouds Were Building Up Now For The Trade Wind And He Looked Ahead And Saw A Flight Of Wild Ducks Etching Themselves Against The Sky Over The Water, Then Blurring, Then Etching Again And He Knew No Man Was Ever Alone On The Sea.

We're Stronger In The Places That We've Been Broken.

Your Blood Coagulates Beautifully.