There Was No Point In Waiting Until

I Will Write Things, He Was Thinking. I Will Write Something Meaningful And Wonderful Someday. I Can Do That. And I'll Dedicate It To You Because You're The First Person Who Ever Made Me Think I Could.

The Young Know How Truly Difficult And Dreadful Youth Can Be. Their Youth Is Wasted On Everyone Else, That's The Horror. The Young Have No Authority, No Respect.

My Conscience Is Killing Me, Isn't It? And When You're Immortal That Can Be A Really Long And Ignominious Death

Heaven Would Be Hell In No Time If Every Cruel, Selfish, Vicious Soul Went To Heaven.

Like All Strong People, She Suffered Always A Measure Of Loneliness; She Was A Marginal Outsider, A Secret Infidel Of A Certain Sort.