I had no eyelashes left. So when I cried, the tears rolled down, unabated to my mouth. My saliva tasted those days, like a salt lake. Or so he said.'('Left from Dhakeshwari')

The junkie ignites his feelings with ugly synthetic substances, and the emotions that were meant to last for a lifetime burn away in full force in a couple of short years.

Also, they don't understand - writing is language. The use of language. The language to create image, the language to create drama. It requires a skill of learning how to use language.

To find the courage to keep writing after constant failure is awesomeness. Winning is eminent.

May you have warmth in your igloo oil in your lamp and peace in your heart.

Our behavior is human with a sliver of animal, our souls animal with a sliver of human.

So what were your favorite subjects in school?""School?" He leaned back in his chair as though he needed the extra space to think about it. "Probably math. It always made sense. Unlike English, economics, and girls.""And exactly how do you plan on taking

The French have a penchant for absolutism, for thinking that things are all one way or all another, which is why their politics are marked by a general inability to compromise and why they tend to hold their personal opinions until the bitter end, even af

I could smell death in the air and I knew it was mine. I could see the world spinning around me and I could sense the blows being thrust into my body. I blacked out.

You're shadowed by your own dream, especially as you get older, of trying to create something that will last in poetry. And so, you're working on its behalf.

Words, without power, is mere philosophy.

I didn't mind that it was always about you, Darrow. That was what burned Tactus, but not me. I'm not in love with you like Mustang. I don't worship you like Sevro or the Howlers. I was a true friend. I was someone who saw your light and your dark and acce