..What our contempt often hurls from us,We wish it our again; the present pleasure,By revolution lowering,does becomeThe opposite of itself..

All writers are insane!

If I had a single wish, I would wish sixty seconds of total depravity upon myself. For one of the greatest gifts of all is to have __othing_ so that I can finally learn how to appreciate __verything_.

Before she cut her birthday cake, she cast a wish, then blew the candles out from his eyes.

Dustfinger still clearly remembered the feeling of being in love for the first time. How vulnerable his heart had suddenly been! Such a trembling, quivering thing, happy and miserably unhappy at once.

That single thought is enough. The impulse increases to a wish, the wish to a desire, the desire to an uncontrollable longing, and the longing (to the deep regret and mortification of the speaker, and in defiance of all consequences,) is indulged.