And Then I Did What I Had

Her Handwriting Was Curious — Small Sharp Little Letters With No Capitals (who Did She Think She Was, E. E. Cummings?).

I Was Afraid Of Being Rejected, Yes. I Was Also Afraid Of Being Accepted For The Wrong Reasons.

What Can You Say About A Twenty-five Year Old Girl Who Died? That She Was Beautiful And Brilliant. That She Loved Mozart And Bach. The Beatles. And Me.

Please, If One Of Us Cries, Let Both Of Us Cry. But Preferably Neither Of Us.

I Think The Peace Corps Is A Fine Thing, Don't You?" He Said. "well," I Replied, "it's Certainly Better Than War Corps.