All We Can Do Is Go Around

How Can The Dead Be Truly Dead When They Still Live In The Souls Of Those Who Are Left Behind?

Coming Down Was The Hardest Part Of Any Climbing.

Maybe When People Longed For A Thing That Bad The Longing Made Them Trust In Anything That Might Give It To Them.

I Have More To Say Than Hemingway, And God Knows, I Say It Better Than Faulkner.

This Was Her, Mick Kelly, Walking In The Daytime And By Herself At Night. In The Hot Sun And In The Dark With All The Plans And Feelings. This Music Was Her—the Real Plain Her...this Music Did Not Take A Long Time Or A Short Time. It Did Not Have Anything To Do With Time Going By At All. She Sat With Her Arms Around Her Legs, Biting Her Salty Knee Very Hard. The Whole World Was This Symphony, And There Was Not Enough Of Her To Listen... Now That It Was Over There Was Only Her Heart Beating Like A Rabbit And This Terrible Hurt.