Words fail me sometimes. I have read most every word in the Webster’s International Dictionary of the English Language, but I still have trouble making them come when I want them to. Right now I want a word that describes the feeling you get – a cold sick feeling deep down inside – when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don’t want it to, but you can’t stop it. And you know you will never be the same again.

Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.

I need a boy who thinks with his big head, not his little one. Since they do not exist, I have fashioned my own.

The world goes on, stupid and brutal, but I do not. Can't you see? I do not.

I listened as the words became sentences and the sentences became pages and the pages became feelings and voices and places and people.

She was his soulmate, as much a part of him as the very flesh and bone that made him. She was with him, in him, in everything he did. She was everything he wanted from his life, the very measure of his dreams.

There is an advantage to be found in most everything that happens to you, even if it is not immediately apparent.