Few beautiful women were willing to indicate in public that they belonged to someone. I had known enough women to realize this. I accepted them for what they were and love came hard and very seldom. When it did it was usually for the wrong reasons. One simply became tired of holding back love and let it go because it needed some place to go. Then, usually, there was trouble.

Do some living and get yourself a typewriter.

I am this fiery snail crawling home.

Belane, are you nuts?" Who knows? Insanity is comparative. Who sets the norm?

and then there are some who believe that old relationships can be revived and made new again. but please if you feel that way don't phone don't write don't arrive

Let it die. Let there be a new beginning. It’s awful. Goodnight.

Her violence frightened me. She always claimed that I was the jealous one, and I was often jealous, but when I saw things working against me I simply became disgusted and withdrew. Lydia was different. She reacted. She was the Head Cheerleader at the Game of Violence.