Life Was A Series Of Greetings And

When One Is Writing A Novel In The First Person, One Must Be That Person.

A Familiar Name On Its Own, However, Does Not Carry Its Bearer Far Unless The Talent Is There, And The Will To Work.

Men Are Simpler Than You Imagine My Sweet Child. But What Goes On In The Twisted, Tortuous Minds Of Women Would Baffle Anyone.

There Was Never An Accident.rebecca Was Not Drowned At All. I Killed Her.i Shot Rebecca In The Cottage In The Cove.i Carried Her Body To The Cabin, And Took The Boat Out That Night And Sunk It There, Where They Found It Today.it's Rebecca Who's Lying Dead There On The Cabin Floor.will You Look Into My Eyes And Tell Me That You Love Me Now?

Will You Look Into My Eyes And Tell Me That You Love Me Now?