My father was a tomato farmer. There is the phrase that says he or she worked their fingers to the bone, well, that's my dad. And he was a very good man.
I'm going to quit writing.
We're all imperfect, and life is simply a perpetual, unending struggle against those imperfections.
The journey has been incredible from its beginning.
Marriage is no way of life for the weak, the selfish, or the insecure.
I do know that I'm responsible not for what happens, but for what I make of it.