We are not of what we feel or believe to do, we are of what we do or fail to do.

She wept with shame for her lack of will and with fear for a love she couldn't control.

Why did happy memories fade and blur until one could scarcely recall them at all, while horrible memories seemed to retain their blinding clarity and painful sharpness?

Whitney: You black-hearted, treacherous, conniving scoundrel. Clayton: Your flattery warms my heart

I used to be ashamed And now I am proud. The world once was black And now it is bright. I used to walk head bent And now I stand up tall. I used to have dreams But now I have hope.

Some women need no jewels to make them sparkle. You are one of them. -Royce Westmoreland

An answering smile drifted across his tanned face. "What is mine, I intend to keep.