Families Without Songs Are Unhappy Families.

The English Language On Her Tongue Became A Smoke-screen, Without Her Eyes Changing Expression In The Least.

I Was Born Into The Century In Which Novels Lost Their Stories, Poems Their Rhymes, Paintings Their Form, And Music Its Beauty, But That Does Not Mean I Have To Like That Trend Or Go Along With It.

She Was One Of Those Southerners Who Knew From An Early Age That The South Could Never Be More For Them Than A Fragrant Prison, Administered By A Collective Of Loving But Treacherous Relatives.

Her Laughter Was A Shiny Thing, Like Pewter Flung High In The Air.

Those Wishing To Be Successful In The Market Can't Ignore The Boomer Numbers, The Wealth And Spending Power They Have.