Experience demands that man is the only animal which devours his own kind, for I can apply no milder term to the general prey of the rich on the poor.

I am leaving the town to the invaders: increasingly numerous, mediocre, dirty, badly behaved, shameless tourists.

WHAT IS LOVE..?

Love is a bliss 
A state without a place.
Love is an instrument which one may spread.

She’d made her way into his heart. Snuck in when he wasn’t looking. It was impossible to be with her and not fall deeply, madly in love with her.

Written By Christine Feehan

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