I'm So Tired. I Don't Know If

Brave Thoughts, But Am I Ready To Follow Through On Them?

I'd Once Been Fascinated By His Legend - All The Stories I'd Heard Before I Met Him. Now I Can Feel That Same Sense Of Fascination Returning. I Picture His Face, So Beautiful Even After Pain And Torture And Grief, His Blue Eyes Bright And Sincere. I'm Ashamed To Admit That I Enjoyed My Brief Time With Him In His Prison Cell. His Voice Can Make Me Forget About All The Details Running Through My Mind, Bringing With It Emotions Of Desire, Or Fear Instead, Sometimes Even Anger, But Always Triggering Something. Something That Wasn't There Before.

Boys Are Different From Girls, But Boys Are Also Different From Other Boys, Just As Girls Are Different From Other Girls. Calling A Book “for Boys” Or “for Girls” Is Well-meaning, But To Me, Not Terribly Helpful.

What A Joke! Poor Little Rich Girl's Fallen In Love With The Republic's Most Famous Criminal.

Without Emotion, What's The Point Of Being Human?