He’d Always Been Willing To Confess His

I Feel That All A Writer Has Is His Own Experience.

Love Is A Chain Of Love As Nature Is A Chain Of Life.

The Brain May Take Advice, But Not The Heart, And Love, Having No Geography, Knows No Boundaries: Weight And Sink It Deep, No Matter, It Will Rise And Find The Surface.

That Isn't Writing At All, It's Typing.

Just Remember: If One Bird Carried Every Grain Of Sand, Grain By Grain, Across The Ocean, By The Time He Got Them All On The Other Side, That Would Only Be The Beginning Of Eternity.