When it comes to books and friends, it is best to have only a few but all good ones.

In years past, to keep their men close, women would wear a ring and bear children. It doesn't work like that today. Nowadays, how do we hold on to those we love? I've no idea.

Some say that you know real love when you realise the only person in the world who can console you is the one who has hurt you.

Why was love such an addictive drug? Why did loving someone cause such suffering?

You are your own refuge There is no other You cannot save another You can only save yourself.

It was a relationship with occasional moments of beauty, but one that had never found it's balance.

It's scary being loved. Because life is complicated and all too often it throws you off balance by sending you the right person at the wrong time.