Did God ever cry over his lost angel, I wonder?
I will never, ever drink whiskey again. From now on, it's strictly sherry.
Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.
True affection and love have a purity which shall always prevail over bigotry.
We create the illusions we need to go on.
We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds.