A Named Thing Is A Tamed Thing.

Remember, It's The Winners Write The History Books, And The Losers Get The Leavings.

Garden Work Clears The Mind.

Places Do Not Lose Their Identity, However Far One Travels. It Is The Heart That Begins To Erode Over Time. The Face In The Hotel Mirror Seems Blurred Some Mornings, As If By Too Many Casual Looks. By Ten The Sheets Will Be Laundered, The Carpet Swept. The Names On The Hotel Registers Change As We Pass. We Leave No Trace As We Pass On. Ghostlike, We Cast No Shadow.

The Right Circumstances Sometimes Happen Of Their Own Accord, Slyly, Without Fanfare, Without Warning. Layman's Alchemy. . . . The Magic Of Everyday Things.

I Liked Her Better For Showing A Little Spirit.