Lang Leav

I don't think all writers are sad, she said.I think it's the other way around—all sad people write.

Your first love isn't the first person you give your heart to- it's the first one who beaks it.

First love,' said Ida with a sigh. 'That's the one that kills you.

The scatterbrain,is a little like,the patter of rain.Neither here,nor there,but everywhere.

Writing is a conduit. It opens up a passageway into the past. Not just for the writer, but for the reader too. Both readers and writer are linked by the commonality of human experience.