God! Whose Hand Was I Holding?

We Moved Together Very Slowly Toward The House, Trying To Understand Its Ugliness And Ruin And Shame.

Oh Constance, We Are So Happy.

All I Could Think Of When I Got A Look At The Place From The Outside Was What Fun It Would Be To Stand Out There And Watch It Burn Down.

It Was One Of Those Winter Days That Suddenly Dream Of Spring, When The Sky Is Blue And Soft And Clear, And The Wind Has Dropped Its Voice And Whispers Instead Of Screaming, And The Sun Is Out And The Trees Look Surprised, And Over Everything There Is The Faintest, Palest Tint Of Green.

I Delight In What I Fear.