"She walks in Beauty, like the night,Of cloudless limes and starry skies;And all that's best of dark and bright, Meet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellowed to that tender light, Which Heaven to gaudy day denies." -George Gordon Lord Byron
*Inserts coin and claps hands ready for what she gets*
Rite 2 meh lyk dis...and I shoot you.~Unknown
I'm the future of America. Be afraid. Be very afraid~Unknown
If you're blonde and you know it clap your hands *Snap* *snap*
If you're reading this...you're finished reading.
When she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her weirdness. They wanted her to change back into what she always had been. But she had wings. — Dean Jackson