Writing is such a damn lonely sickness.
One fine day a predatory world shall consume itself.
Don't bemoan your misspent life quite yet. Forgive me for flaunting my experience, but you have no conception of what a misspent life constitutes.
I really wish they hadn't made the set out of asbestos.
Faith, the least exclusive club on Earth, has the craftiest doorman.
Assured her I've never loved anyone except myself and have no intention of starting now.