But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.

I feel like a goddess, jailed in her Olympus. Little wonder how the gods toyed with humans. Toyed with women, to watch them squirm, pollinate the seeds of despair; toyed with men, to satiate their Seven Deadly Sins.

The problem with falling in love is falling back out of it again, usually because you've fallen in love with a lie. That happens as often as not.

Red and raw like my heart, pried from your's, the two beating, no longer together, but a thousand miles between them when only yesterday they thumped in unison.

I want to know what it means to be in love. But in my dictionary 'in love' is indefinable.

Me? Beautiful? I'm plain as cardboard. That may be how you see yourself, but the rest of the world would be hard to agree. You shine brighter than the Milky Way. Now there are those who might try to take that from you, but you don't have to give it away. Keep on shining Pattyn. And when the right young man comes along, he'll love you all the more for giftin' this sad planet with your light.

When you've only got one little shimmer of sunshine, you capture it best you can.