She is free in her wildness she is a wanderess a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. Time for her isnt something to fight against. Her life flows clean with passion like fresh water.

You were right the first time Cathy. It was a stupid silly story.Ridiculous Only insane people would die for the sake of love. Illbet you a hundred to one a woman wrote that junky romantic trashJust a minute ago Id despised that author for bringing about such amiserable ending then there I went rushing to the defense. T. M.Ellis could very well have been a man Though I doubt any woman writerin the nineteenth century had much chance of being published unlessshe used her initials or a mans name. And why is it all men thinkeverything a woman writes is trivial or trashy-or just plain sillydrivel Dont men have romantic notions Dont men dream of findingthe perfect love And it seems to me that Raymond was far moremushy-minded than Lily

Prayer is an insurance policy that you can never lapse on.

As I look back on my life I think of how few rules should be followed. As for men we must learn bravery and live for Pleasure and for Beauty. More important than those two things should stand only one thing for us... Honor. A mans honor should be more sacred to him than his life especially in our age a time when very few men know what honor is.

As for you girls you must risk everything for Freedom and give everything for Passion loving everything that your hearts and your bodies love. The only thing higher for a girl and more sacred for a young woman than her freedom and her passion should be her desire to make her life into poetry surrendering everything she has to create a life as beautiful as the dreams that dance in her imagination.

I had a dream about you. You were wearing a wedding dress and I was in a tuxedo. Wed been waiting on this moment our whole lives only I imagined the first time I robbed a bank Id be dressed like a cowboy. But you were right this was more romantic.

I had a dream about you. You were a florist and I was a floorist. You thought you were more romantic than me but I knew all the barefoot women in the Nicholas Sparks fan club would disagree.

I had a dream about you. No words were exchanged but we spoke with our eyes. My eyes said I love you while your eyes told me Im asleep. You always were more romantic than me.

You must give everything to make your life as beautiful as the dreams that dance in your imagination.