I write what I'd like to read and just hope that, along the way, others might like to read them, too.
We're all unique, just never in the ways we imagine.
A way of looking at you that told you she was listening, that she understood all you were saying, and all you weren't.
... time had a way of moulding people into shapes they themselves no longer recognised ...
It's a terrible thing, isn't it, the way we throw people away?