There isn't a particle of you that I don't know, remember, and want.
The pleasures that once were heaven look silly at sixty-seven.
What I adore is supreme professionalism. I’m bored by writers who can write only when it’s raining.
There are bad times just around the corner, There are dark clouds travelling through the sky, And it's no good whining, About a silver lining, For we know from experience they won't roll by...
Your motivation is your pay packet on Friday. Now get on with it.
Dear 338171 (May I call you 338?)