There was a war going on in our house. A silent war that sounded no guns, and the bodies that fell were only wishes that died and the bullets were only words and the blood that spilled was always called pride.

What is normal? Normal is only ordinary; mediocre. Life belongs to the rare, exceptional individual who dares to be different.

There is no hate such as that born out of love betrayed- and my brain screamed out for revenge.

Love doesn't always come when you want it to. Sometimes it just happens, despite your will.

A flower blooms best in a happy pot.

Patience. I colored patience gray, hung over with black clouds. I colored hope yellow, just like the sun we could see for a few short morning hours. Too soon the sun rose high in the sky & disappeared from view, leaving us bereft and staring at blue.

Maybe thats because we take criticism best from those we love and those who love us-Ethan