I Would Love To Write

It's Funny How People Mark Their Lives, The Benchmarks They Choose To Decide When The Moment Is More Of A Moment Than Any Other. For Life Is Made Of Them. I Like To Think The Best Ones Of All Are In My Mind, That They Run Through My Blood In Their Own Memory Bank For No One Else But Me To See.

She Strived For Perfection. She Loved Setting Herself Tasks, Sometimes Impossible Ones, To Prove To Her Heart That Underneath Every Seemingly Ugly Thing There Was Something Beautiful Inside.

Two Lost Things That Had Survived The Seas And Arrived On A Coastline. What Did They Do? They Implanted Themselves In The Sand And Grew Into Trees And Lined The Beaches. Sometimes A Lot Can Come Of Being All Washed Up. You Can Really Grow.

He Tried To Tell Me Week After Week To Accept Things As They Were And Move On With My Life. But If There Was One Man Who Had Put His Life On Hold To Wait For Something Or Someone, It Was Him.

I Think That Most People Go To Bookshops And Have No Idea What They Want To Buy. Somehow The Books Sit There, Almost Magically Willing People To Pick Them Up. The Right Person For The Right Book. Its As Though They Know Whose Life They Need To Be A Part Of, How They Can Make A Difference, How They Can Teach A Lesson, Put A Smile On A Face At Just The Right Time.