All I Was Afraid Of Is Saying

A Book With The Genuine Power To Stir And Comfort Its Readers.

There Is Everything You Know And There Is Everything That Happens. When The Two Do Not Line Up, You Make A Choice.

It's Like Going Back To Being A Child Again. Someone To Bathe You. Someone To Lift You. Someone To Wipe You. We All Know How To Be A Child. It's Inside All Of Us. For Me, It's Just Remembering How To Enjoy It.

Soon Man Will Count All His Days, And Then Smaller Segments Of The Day, And Then Smaller Still—until The Counting Consumes Him, And The Wonder Of The World He Has Been Given Is Lost.

In College, I Had A Course In Latin, And One Day The Word "divorce" Came Up. I Always Figured It Came From Some Root That Meant "divide." In Truth, It Comes From "divertere," Which Means "to Divert." I Believe That. All Divorce Does Is Divert You, Taking You Away From Everything You Thought You Knew And Everything You Thought You Wanted And Steering You Into All Kinds Of Other Stuff, Like Discussions About Your Mother's Girdle And Whether She Should Marry Someone Else.