When I look at my room, I see a girl who loves books. The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing. Try not to become a man of success. Rather become a man of value. Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away. He is half of my soul, as the poets say. A lot of you cared, just not enough. And then I am going to rattle the stars. What she had realized was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst. Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames. I think; therefore I am.