I do think of Bombay as my hometown. Those are the streets I walked when I was learning to walk. And it's the place that my imagination has returned to more than anywhere else.
Listen. . . you can hear the colors flowering in the quiet of your soul
Celebrate your own special spirit fly on the wings of your secret dreams
We can thank our lucky stars when once in a blue moon we find rare and kindred souls along the pathways of our lives.
Live from the wise voice in your heart, and each day will blossom
I live within the vivid colors of my imagination, soaring with rainbow-feathered birds, racing the desert winds on horseback, wrapped in ancient tribal jewels, dancing with mythical tigers in steamy jungles.
How enriched life is by friends! Good friends, new friends, old friends, feathered friends, feline friends, friends of friends.
Your life is a blank page. You write on it.
How easy it is to be "deep": all you have to do is let yourself sink into your own flaws.
I'll tell you what's wrong!" he roared, "I'm trying to quit smoking!" Then he strode angrily to the truck, leaving her standing there. She blinked her eyes, and slowly a smile stretched her lips. She strolled to the truck and got in. "So, are you homicidal or merely as irritable as a wounded buffalo?" "About halfway in between," he said through clenched teeth. "Anything I can do to help?" His eyes were narrow and intense. "It isn't just the cigarettes. Take off your panties and lock your legs around me, and I'll show you.
To justify being listened to, I try to be as well informed as I can. Hence, the travel. Reading is good too. Reading gets you part way there, and I do read pretty voraciously for a guy who's trying to write so much.