The city buildings in the distance are holding up the sky, it seems.

Just be patient, she told herself, and with the mounting pages, the strength of her writing fist grew.

Can a wolfe be beautiful?

for some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. perhaps it's so they can die being right.

I'm not the messenger at all. I'm the message.

I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her.

The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.