And Then I Did What I Had

What Can You Say About A Twenty-five-year-old Girl Who Died?

But What Does He Do To Qualify As A Sonovabitch?” Jenny Asked. “make Me”, I Replied. “beg Pardon?” “make Me”, I Repeated. Her Eyes Widened Like Saucers. “you Mean Like Incest?” She Asked. “don’t Give Me Your Family Problems, Jen. I Have Enough Of My Own.” “like What, Oliver?” She Asked, “like Just What Is It He Makes You Do?” “the ‘right Things’”, I Said. “what’s Wrong With The ‘right Things’?” She Asked, Delighting In The Apparent Paradox.

True Love Comes Quietly, Without Banners Or Flashing Lights. If You Hear Bells, Get Your Ears Checked.

It Takes Someone Very Special To Help You Forget Someone Very Special.

What Term Do You Employ When You Speak Of Your Progenitor?" I Answered With The Term I'd Always Wanted To Employ. "sonovabitch." "to His Face?" She Asked. "i Never See His Face." "he Wears A Mask?" "in A Way, Yes. Of Stone. Of Absolute Stone.