Deep inside her (ih her harrowed soul) she felt a glowing ember of fury at the man responsible for this. Tha man who had put her in this position. She looked at the pistol lying beside the basin, and knew that if he were here, she would use it on him without a moment's hesitation. Knowing that made her feel confused about herself. It also made her feel a little stronger.

The quiet, singing voice of the rose. The song that promised all might be well, all might be well, that all manner of things might be well.

If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. - Japanese Proverb

When it comes to the past, everyone writes fiction.

Upon being asked by a fan how to become a writer, Stephen King replied, "Write.

There came a time when you realized that moving on was pointless. That you took yourself with you wherever you went.

There may be fairies, there may be elves, but God helps those who help themselves.