Occupation: Author Birth: 1965
I'd had my share of rain. My mother's illness ... had weighed on me, but the years before had been heavy, too. I was only twenty eight..
But in the end, fighting for a love that was already gone felt like trying to live in the ruins of a lost city..
The way I see it, how can you really say you'll love a person longer than love lasts?.
Why is it every other person you meet says they're an artist? A real artist doesn't need to gas on about it, he doesn't have time. He does his work a….
I would gladly have climbed out of my skin and into his that night, because I believed that was what love meant..
Though I often looked for one, I finally had to admit that there could be no cure for Paris..