In the end, we all inherit a stone, after life’s waves have rolled over us – and hopefully, she’ll write upon it.

Deb and I were married on a snowy night – wind cross-wove a veil of snow for her then threw confetti at us as we left the lighted church...

He heard her in his heart – whispering from the mist.

You see, the Highway to Hell is a toll road. Someone has to pay. And, guess what? It ain’t gonna be me.

...my thoughts reach out like prayers to you - and if you are quiet, you can hear...

...the magic of love runs at cross purposes with the rhythm of living...

...A madeleine moment - a sound, a scent can incant her presence...

...we live in a different world, you and me - governed by different laws...

...not even the wind can bring a tear to my eye the way you do...

...there's an impotency Viagra can't touch - the inability of a man to speak ...