Those Who Live In Memories Are Never

It Is A Cruel, Ironical Art, Photography. The Dragging Of Captured Moments Into The Future; Moments That Should Have Been Allowed To Be Evaporate Into The Past; Should Exist Only In Memories, Glimpsed Through The Fog Of Events That Came After. Photographs Force Us To See People Before Their Future Weighed Them Down.

After All, It's The Librarian's Sworn Purpose To Bring Books Together With Their One True Reader.

Sometimes, Edie, A Person's Feelings Aren't Rational. At Least, They Don't Seem That Way On The Surface. You Have To Dig A Little Deeper To Understand What Lies At The Base

Thinking Of Nothing. Trying To Think Of Nothing. Thinking Of Everything.

Gerry?' Laurel Had To Strain To Hear Thought The Noise On The Other End Of The Line. 'gerry? Where Are You?' 'london. A Phone Booth On Fleet Street.' 'the City Still Has Working Phone Booths?' 'it Would Appear So. Unless This Is The Tardis, In Which Case I'm In Serious Trouble.